Evening Star: An Elder Scrolls Novel
by SuperGreG
Summary: 4E48-Almost 50yrs after the Oblivion Crisis & 5yrs since the events of The Infernal City, a Dunmer receives a powerful vision. An item of great value will soon begin the journey of return to the hands of its creator. However, the manner of that journey promises to confound the comprehension of the mortals involved. Oblivion, The Infernal City/Lord of Souls & Skyrim.
1. Chapter 1

Foreword:

Almost fifty years after the Oblivion Crisis and more than four years since the events of the Infernal City, the story begins. A Dunmer receives a powerful vision. An item of great value has resurfaced in Tamriel. Soon it will begin the journey of return to the hands of its creator. However, the manner of that journey promises to confound the comprehension of the mortals involved.

Authors note: With some artistic license, all reasonable effort made to maintain general parity with canon established in Oblivion, The Infernal City/Lord of Souls, and Skyrim.

Rated M for mild adult content.

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Although it should go without needing to be stated, let it be said: Bethesda owns The Elder Scrolls and all related materials. I am merely contributing my own interpretations in a public forum and no profit is derived or intended from my work.

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Additional note: The story follows on from "Accident and Destiny: An Elder Scrolls Novel". Some effort has been made to allow this story to function as stand-alone. However, I recommend reading the previous story for a more complete perspective.

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Evening Star: An Elder Scrolls Novel

Greg J Miller

~O~

Chapter 1

Loredas the 7th of Frostfall 4E48

It was almost midday, but the cold wind that blew across the mountain had chilled the Dunmer through his dark robes. The chill had made it seem as though it was closer to either dusk or dawn. The mild warmth of the autumnal sunlight had made some difference, but only so much. Still, it had been far worse during the previous day. A light snow had persistently fallen throughout all of that day. Fadren Verelas had endured that icy irritation as he made his way up the side of the mountain. His prominent nose had peeked out from the front of his hood and seemed to bear the brunt. Even though the snow had remained fairly light, the brisk winds had made it seem far more harsh. That snowfall had persisted throughout the evening, only finally easing and giving way to clearer skies during the morning.

The mountain was one of the lesser peaks in the range dominated by Mount Anthor in the north of Skyrim. Fadren expected that the mountain probably had a name of its own, but he didn't know what the Nords called it. In truth, he didn't really care. To his mind, there was only one thing of importance about the place. It was the location of the shrine to Azura.

That shrine had been constructed some years earlier by Fadren's countrymen and women after they had fled the destruction in Morrowind that followed in the wake of the eruption of the Red Mountain upon Vvardenfell.

From Fadren's understanding, it had taken a good number of years to complete the construction. Although he had heard of it before, it was his first visit to that location.

Presumably, the tall stone statue that represented the Daedra in her female aspect would have taken some considerable time to complete. The statue towered above the relatively simple stone shrine. The figure stood quite tall, representing Azura as a woman of pleasant appearance. The posture of her form seemed to imply a benign bearing. The arms casually outstretched, holding the symbols of the crescent moon and the star in each hand.

The final ascent to the shrine was marked by a series of simple stone steps and platforms, before reaching the uppermost platform where the shrine itself remained open to the skies above in clear view of the tall statue.

Down by the base of the steps, were the remains of a structure that had fallen from the mountainside some years earlier. Fadren had assumed that it must have been some sort of shelter for those that constructed the shrine, and for those that came to offer worship. It truth, he did not know of the details.

Fadren was somewhat surprised to learn that he was alone when he arrived. He had expected that other worshippers or priests might be there. Perhaps, it was Azura's will that no one else was present.

* * *

As he had trudged up the mountainside the previous day, he had been considering the past and the circumstances that led to that day. Fadren had been born just outside of Blacklight, in the north of Morrowind. That city was situated near the northern coast upon the mainland, not actually upon the island of Vvardenfell, but just across the waters of the Inner Sea. He was born in 3E429, just four years before the beginning of the fourth era. He was only ten years old when the sky fell over Vivec City and the Red Mountain erupted, raining destruction down upon all of Vvardenfell.

Fadren was among the many survivors that fled Blacklight. Many had departed the city by sea. A great number of the city's children were loaded upon the trading vessels leaving the main port of the northern bay. Fadren had been amongst them.

Many other evacuees had set off across the land headed westward. They travelled by any means available. Many of them upon foot.

The city of Blacklight had not been destroyed outright by the eruption of Red Mountain. The great wall of water that rushed across the Inner Sea had not quite made it all the way across the peninsular of land just east of the city. However, Blacklight had soon been rendered effectively uninhabitable. Firstly by the noxious gas cloud that slowly drifted across the greater region, and secondly by the dark ash that rained down upon the land. By the time that it had finally reached Blacklight, it was not quite the searing hot ash that had burned much of Vvardenfell. Nonetheless, the cooler ash that fell across land had still brought lasting devastation to the region.

Fadren had soon found himself landing upon the shores of Solstheim. It was that day that he became just another of the many orphans from Morrowind. At the time, he did not know for certain that he had lost his parents. However, he never saw them again. In due course, he came to believe that they had perished before leaving their home in Blacklight. If something else had happened, he had never come to learn of it. Fadren had lived out the rest of his childhood upon the island of Solstheim.

After the destruction of Vvardenfell, the long-standing enmity between the Dunmer and the Argonians had turned to terrible opportunism. The Argonians had invaded the south of Morrowind and waged war upon the broken province. It had seemed that the amphibious reptiles of Argonia held no interest in colonising or ruling over the land.

The Argonian armies had merely driven the Dunmer from their lands. It seemed no more than cold revenge for the years of slavery and other injustices inflicted upon their people by the Dunmer of times past.

It was rumoured that the Argonian forces were driven by the Hist. The Argonians ingested a mind-altering sap that came from the mysterious trees that they claimed were possessed of a mystical intelligence.

The Nords of Skyrim had never been friends of the Dunmer. Often, it was quite the opposite. However, with a measure of poorly disguised intent, the Nords had taken advantage of political opportunity in a different fashion. Skyrim had relinquished the long disputed claim over the island of Solstheim and ceded the land to the Dunmer refugees from Morrowind.

Fadren had been shuffled about from family to family throughout his childhood. He had passed just as much time living in the orphan houses of the Solstheim settlements. He had eventually come of age and struck out upon his own. Fadren had taken various labouring jobs throughout his youth. Mining and shipping were the prominent industries of Solstheim, so there was plenty of work of that type for those that were willing. He had remained upon the island of Solstheim until his early thirties.

When Fadren was just a boy, the colouring of his skin had been a much paler shade of gray. During his later youthful years, that tone had darkened notably. In part, an effect of the time that he passed working under the sun, his colouring had become a darker shade of gray, with just a tinge of greenish-brown. His dark hair and unkempt beard made his colouring seem even darker. Of course, his blood red eyes had remained the same shade of most Dunmer.

When Fadren had finally left the northern island behind, he had firstly returned to the mainland by ship to Windhelm in Skyrim. After a short time, he had travelled eastward upon foot. He had sought out his fellow Dunmer in the north-west of Morrowind. Even though none had spoken of it, he had thought that he would learn that his people had returned to the homeland. However, they remained few and far between. He returned to Skyrim disappointed.

The next few years remained blurred in his memory. He had drifted from place to place across the north of Skyrim. He had taken work wherever a Dunmer could find gainful employment. He drank far too much, contributing to the blurring of his recollection.

It was not until just six years before that his path had changed to gain some kind of meaning. It was the summer of 4E42 and Fadren had found himself back at the port of Wildhelm, working at the docks upon the White River.

During yet another drunken evening in one of the less reputable taverns of Windhelm, a brawl had erupted. It was not such an unusual occurrence. It had nothing to do with Fadren. However, that did not mean that he would be able to stay out of it. Unless nimble enough to evade the activity, the slow could easily find that the fight would find them. Fadren was already full of drink and rather slow.

The brawl did not last long. Fadren had not even really been a participant. However, he had still become involved in an unexpected fashion. The next thing that Fadren knew, he was lying upon the floor with a dagger between his ribs. An elderly Dunmer man had come to his assistance. The older man had carefully withdrawn the dagger and examined the wound. He then proceeded to cast a series of healing spells over Fadren's prone form.

Of course, Fadren had survived his injuries and recovered fully. That recovery owed no small part to the prompt and skilful actions of that old Dunmer. That was how Fadren came to meet Aras Fals.

Naturally, Fadren was most grateful toward the old Dunmer. He had wanted to find some way to repay his kindness, not that he had anything of value to offer. Nonetheless, a friendship between the two had resulted from that encounter.

During the time that followed, Aras had often spoken at length of the greater days of Morrowind. Fadren had absorbed everything with great interest. After just a short while, Aras had persuaded Fadren to adopt a more sober lifestyle. As it passed, just as Fadren had been in need of finding a purpose to his existence, Aras had seemed to take an interest in mentoring the younger Dunmer.

Fadren soon learned that Aras was actually a mage of some modest skill. His healing skills had already been fully demonstrated. Fadren would later learn that Aras also possessed a variety of other skills.

After determining Fadren's undeveloped aptitude for the arts of magicka, Aras had begun the slow process of his training. He might never approach the skills of his master, but Fadren had applied his efforts to the best of his ability.

Fadren had passed most of that six-year period in the company of Aras Fals. They had travelled together to a number of locations, often returning to Windhelm. During all of that time, they had never actually visited the shrine of Azura. Aras had spoken of its location and educated Fadren in the nature of the relationship between the Daedric Prince/Princess and the Dunmer people. The intent to eventually travel to the shrine together had remained unfulfilled.

Just a few weeks before Fadren had made the journey up that mountain, the life of Aras Fals had come to an end. That end had not come about naturally. The demise of Aras was the result of a poisoned blade delivered by the hand of an unknown assassin. It had to have been an exceptionally effective poison. Not even the mage's own healing skills, combined with those of Fadren's had been enough to save him. The final words whispered from the mouth of Aras Fals were direct. "Go to Azura."

* * *

The skies continued to clear as Fadren Verelas stood by the shrine. The sun had reached its apex above, marking the point of midday. He had been contemplating the relationship between Azura and his own people, the Dunmer. After all, it was Azura's will that brought about the transformation of his ancient ancestors, the Chimer. Azura's blessing and curse marked all Dunmer with their characteristic dark coloured appearance and blood red eyes. Forever set apart from all the other races of Mer. A blessing and a curse.

Fadren's contemplation had faltered a moment. He had heard the call of a hawk in the distance. He had again considered it odd that no other Dunmer were in the vicinity.

His attention was suddenly taken by another strange sensation. He had firstly felt a subtle dizziness come upon him. His vision faltered and blurred as he gazed upward toward the statue that stood over him. The faint noises about him were replaced by an eerie silence. At first, he could hear only the sound of his own breathing. Then, not even that.

The Dunmer's eyesight faded to shades of gray, then to complete darkness. After an indeterminate time, sight and sound had returned in a manner that reflected that of a vivid dream.

Fadren could see two figures in a poorly lit room. A taller man remained in shadow, but the young woman moved into the light. She appeared quite young. She looked to be a dark haired Bosmer. One of those so-called Wood Elves, native to the land of Valenwood. He could not quite make out the taller man that remained in the shadows. Voices were raised and a struggle ensued. Blood spattered across the floor, then the image faded.

A thick forest came into view. Two figures were running through the underbrush, dodging past the trees. Fadren couldn't really tell for certain, but he thought that one of them was the Bosmer girl that he had just observed. The second figure had moved into clear view and swung about with a plain bow held at the ready. It was a male Khajiit. One of the feline beast-folk that came from the lands of Elsweyr. The cat grinned, bearing his teeth in a gleeful but menacing fashion. He was one of the Khajiit that stood upright like a man or Mer. However, his feline features seemed just a little different from those Khajiit that Fadren had seen in the trading caravans of Skyrim. His colouring seemed a light sandy colour and he also seemed to have a far shorter snout than was typical. The Khajiit had spoken, but Fadren could not hear what was said. The images again faded.

An unfamiliar city then appeared before Fadren. It seemed nothing like the appearance of the cities of Skyrim. He had no time to examine it. The face of a bearded Imperial man appeared before him. He did not seem to be an Imperial soldier. He was wearing silver coloured armour made of some sort of strange weave. The Imperial man had moved past and the image faded yet again.

A more sparsely forested area had then appeared before Fadren. From behind some bushes, he could see two Nords standing in a clearing. A man and a woman. Before he had time to regard their appearances, he heard the sharp sound of cracking thunder and he was blinded by flashes of bright light. He was confused. The noise had seemed to come before the lightning, if that's what it actually was.

When Fadren could again see, the sky had turned dark. The two moons, Masser and Secunda, were in the star filled sky. However, it did not appear to be the night sky that he recognised above Skyrim. One of the stars above had seemed to grow larger. He soon realised that it was actually falling from the sky. That star had suddenly turned dark and it landed at his feet. It had become a much smaller object than he had expected. As he gazed upon it, without fully understanding how the knowledge had come to him, Fadren knew what it was. Its form was the same as the eight-pointed star held in the hand of the statue of Azura. The object was known as Azura's Star.

The dark shape at Fadren's feet seemed to swell and grow. He had tried to take a step backward, but he was far too slow. The darkness inflated rapidly and engulfed him.

From within the darkness, a strange female voice rang out and echoed all about Fadren. "Fadren Verelas." The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. It seemed as though the voice was inside his head as well all about him. Fadren did not feel the need to indicate his attention. That voice filled his entire existence.

"You will seek to return it to me." An image of the star flashed across his mind. "But not until the time is right."

Fadren understood that Azura addressed him. Accordingly, he accepted what he had been told. However, he was not certain that he fully comprehended the instruction.

"How will I know when the time is right?" Fadren realised that he had somehow voiced the question without actually speaking.

The voice of Azura responded. "You will know when the time is right." The voice of Azura had paused a moment. "You will remain in the land of the Nords for the passing of ten days. You will then travel southward to the city of Skingrad." The voice had paused for another beat. "When the time is right, you will take hold of the star. In your hands, the star will begin the journey to its rightful destination."

Fadren considered the instructions. He struggled to fully understand, but accepted the task ahead. His acceptance was understood without further comment.

Fadren had blinked his eyes just momentarily. He was suddenly again standing by the shrine with the tall stone statue looming above. In truth, he had never physically moved from that spot. The sun had not appeared to have noticeably shifted in the sky. The powerful vision had seemingly occurred as though between the blinking of his eyes.

Although some things remained unclear to him, his immediate path was certain enough. Fadren would remain in Skyrim for ten days. Then, he would journey southward to a city known as Skingrad. He had heard that it was a city in Imperial Cyrodiil. Beyond that, he knew nothing at all. Fadren trusted that all would become clear enough in due course. After all, he was following the will of Azura.

~O~


	2. Chapter 2

Evening Star

Greg J Miller

~O~

Chapter 2

Loredas the 7th of Frostfall 4E48

It was just a little before midday as Malcolm Forester passed through the southern city gates onto the streets of Chorrol. Those streets had seemed just as busy as he had remembered from the last time that he visited the Colovian city in the north-west of Cyrodiil.

With the rapid approach of noon, the crowds had reached a peak further up the main street. Further up the slope of that main street was the open plaza area where the huge oak tree stood at the centre, surrounded by some lesser trees and shrubs about its base. There were a number of open stalls that lined the sides of the street about the central plaza. Those open markets were a good part of the draw of those crowds.

Forester was a man of fairly typical statue for an Imperial. He was neither small, nor approaching the height of the typical Nord. Still, he seemed to carry himself like a much taller man. He wore his favoured mithril armour as he strode up the main street. It was obviously well favoured, as indicated by a few obvious marks and scars upon the armour. Despite its well-used appearance, it still looked to be an expensive ensemble. He was wearing his mithril helmet, obscuring his neatly cropped dark hair. That also obscured the fresh gray hairs that were beginning to intrude about his temples. However, it did nothing to hide the flecks of gray in his neatly cropped beard. The only distraction from those gray hairs was provided by the determined gaze of his gray-blue eyes peering from beneath his dark brow.

In contrast to his more elaborate attire, a rather plain leather bag was slung behind his back, held in place by a strap over his shoulder and across his chest. From his left hip, hung a fine steel sword of Imperial design. A long dagger crafted from quality ebony was fixed to the right-hand side of his belt.

There was no law in place to prevent such an open display of weapons and armour within the city. Besides, Forester was an active member of the Fighter's Guild. In addition to that, his greater weapons were not so well displayed. He was an experienced mage of some reasonable skill. A portion of that skill involved his ability in the arts of destruction magic.

Forester had received his earliest training at the Skingrad College of Whispers. Then for a time, he had trained with the Synod as a battlemage. At that time, travelling to the Arcane University in the Imperial City had seemed to represent everything that he sought to achieve for his future. For better or worse, that had not exactly worked out as he had intended. After parting ways with the Synod, Forester had found a far more suitable path for himself with the Skingrad Fighter's Guild.

That morning, Forester had travelled upon foot from the township of Hackdirt, located just a few leagues to the south of Chorrol. The past several weeks had taken him much further afield, for a great variety of reasons.

* * *

More than two months had passed since Forester had completed that Guild contract that involved the secretive mission for the Penitus Oculatus. Of course, the official contract was held by the Fighter's Guild, but the Penitus Oculatus were ones paying for the task. Since that group acted as the military spies for Emperor Titus Mede, the mission had been one of utmost secrecy. Neither Forester, nor anyone else involved could ever speak of it. Their actions might well have saved the existence of the Empire, but few would ever know.

That contract had almost cost Forester his life. A few of his compatriots had not been quite so lucky. None had walked away without some cost.

During the first stage of that mission, the life of Durgash gro-Durgash had been lost to the blade of a Thalmor agent. The seasoned Orc had been a member of the Bravil Fighter's Guild. Forester had not known Durgash all that well, but he respected the Orsimer. In part, his sacrifice had contributed to saving the lives of all the others involved. At the least, that's how Forester chose to remember it.

The final stage of that mission had proved even more difficult. Of course, Forester had survived that day. However, given the great extent of the injuries that he had endured, he was suitably surprised that he had not died. If not for the great skill of the dedicated healers, he doubted that he would even have been able to walk after that day.

The other two Guild members that fought by his side had also suffered great injury during the final stages of their battle with the Thalmor agents. The half-Nord woman and the younger Nord lad were the last to fall. Forester had not directly witnessed how they had done it, but they had managed to finish the last of the Altmer spies from Alinor. One of them had also managed to destroy the ancient artefact that threatened to bring down the Empire.

Of the Penitus Oculatus field agents that accompanied them, only one had survived the day. After his immediate recovery from his terrible wounds, Forester had not seen the man again. He didn't really know the man at all, but hoped that he was well enough.

The half-Nord woman, Monika Northwind, had recovered from her injuries a little sooner than Forester. However, young Alexander Pinewatch had not.

Forester had remained within the Imperial City for a period of nine days. Pinewatch was still alive and attended by the healers, but had not regained consciousness throughout that time. It had remained uncertain whether he would actually survive.

Although feeling some measure of guilt over the matter, there was nothing that Forester could do. There were other things that he felt the need to attend. His recent brush with death had served to spur him to address other long neglected matters.

Forester had collected his gold in payment for his services. He departed the Imperial City and travelled firstly to Skingrad. Although he had a home there, it seemed that he rarely stay there for long. After attending to some personal matters in that city, he headed further westward for the city of Kvatch. It was during the first week of Hearthfire when he arrived there.

More than eleven years had passed since Raesa had left him, taking young Mattias with her to Kvatch. She had made it perfectly clear that she had wanted nothing more to do with him, leaving their home in Skingrad and relocating to another city to reinforce her point. More than that, she would not permit him to see his son at all.

In Kvatch, Forester quickly learned that nothing had changed. Raesa would not see him, nor speak with him. Except of course beyond a vehement dismissal as she slammed the door in his face. He was still forbidden from seeing his son.

Young Mattias would be fifteen in a week's time. Forester had not spoken with him since was just four years old. The boy would probably not even know him.

Nonetheless, Forester was determined to provide for the boy's future. More than he had been permitted, thus far.

Before leaving Kvatch behind, Forester had attended to a few important tasks. Firstly, he had arranged for a heavy package to be delivered to the home of his former wife and son. Of course, the package had no outward indication that it had come from him. The brief note inside had indicated that the content of the package was meant to provide for Mattias' immediate needs. A modest portion of his recent earnings in gold was beneath that note.

The second arrangement that Forester had made was with the money-holders of Kvatch. He had deposited a more sizeable amount of gold to be held in trust. Upon Mattias' twentieth birthday, he would receive that wealth to be used to secure his future.

Forester had hoped that the day would come when he could again see his son. Even if that did not come to pass, he took some comfort from the knowledge that he had at least tried to provide for the boy's future in the only means that he could pursue.

Malcolm Forester did not remain all that long in the city of Kvatch. He soon made his way back to Skingrad. He had briefly touched base with the Skingrad office of the Fighter's Guild. He had hoped to pick up a contract. He didn't really need the gold, but he was hoping for a suitable distraction. Something important that needed to be done. However, things had been rather quiet at the time. The few contracts that had been available had already been quickly snapped up by others that were hungry for the work.

After a short period of idleness, Forester had made the journey back along The Gold Road to the Imperial City. He had casually asked around about Northwind and Pinewatch. The only one who knew who he was talking about was the publican at the Merchant's Inn in the Market District of the city. He had not recalled seeing them since they had been there during the month of Sun's Height. That was several weeks before.

Forester had then recalled that Northwind was a friend of the old Altmer woman that owned the Wawnet Inn. That was in the village of Weye, just across the main bridge outside the Imperial City.

Forester had visited the Wawnet Inn the next day. After some haggling with the younger Imperial woman that tended the service bar, he was eventually able to speak with Nerussa, the elderly Altmer woman that owned the place.

At first, Nerussa had seemed highly suspicious. However, her demeanour had completely changed once she had learned that Forester was a friend to Monika and Alex. She had insisted upon sitting him down with a drink and engaged him in a lengthy meandering conversation.

Forester had eventually learned that the both of them were quite well. Nerussa had last seen them both about four weeks earlier. From her understanding, they had travelled back to Chorrol and were planning to take some time off from their work with the Fighter's Guild. From the conversation, Forester had gleaned that Nerussa seemed to disapprove of their determination to continue serving the Guild. At the same time, she seemed to hold a great affection toward the both of them.

It had actually required some measure of refined determination upon Forester's part to politely decline the offer of accommodation at the Inn. Having learned something of his former comrades' wellbeing and recent activities, Forester departed the Wawnett Inn.

Over the following days, Forester left the vicinity of the Imperial City and Lake Rumare behind, returning to the city of Skingrad. However, he did not remain in Skingrad for long. His own birthday would fall upon the following Morndas, the second of Frostfall. It had long since failed to hold any great meaning for himself. However, he had promised his father that he would visit the family home at that time.

Although Forester had been raised in Skingrad by his Imperial parents, it had been some time since they had actually lived in the city. After the passing of his grandfather, his parents had moved back to the family farm at Brindle Home. That village was situated along the back road that ran north from Skingrad, eventually leading to Chorrol. His younger brother had also gone there to assist with running the horse-breeding activities.

For a time, it had just been his parents, Lucan and Sarmosia Forester, and his brother, Marcus at Brindle Home. Then Marcus had married Avita and brought her to live there as well. Since that time, they had brought two sons into the family. Both boys were still under the age of ten.

Forester had not visited Brindle Home for more than half a year. There had been times that he had allowed even longer periods to pass between visits. However, since the passing of his mother less than two years earlier, he had made some effort to visit his father a little more frequently. Still, that had not occurred nearly as often as he had intended.

The passage of time between those visits had often served to feed an underlying tension between Marcus and himself. Of course, that extended to include his sister-in-law.

Nevertheless, Malcolm Forester had promised to go there by the second of Frostfall and he there was no good reason for him to be elsewhere. Accordingly, he had arrived at Brindle Home upon the afternoon of Sundas the first.

Although he had been glad to see his father and family in good health, Forester had not intended to spend more than a couple of days there. However, he had been persuaded to remain for a few more days.

By the time that Turdas had come around, Forester was beginning to fully understand the meaning of that old proverb. The one that spoke of absence making the heart grow fonder. He had almost been pleased when a traveller had arrived in the settlement warning of an armed bandit upon the road north to Hackdirt.

Forester had immediately come forward as an active member of the Fighter's Guild and vowed to deal with the roadside bandit.

The very next morning, he had said his farewells to the family and set off upon the northern road. It was just a few leagues through The Great Forest to the location of the small township of Hackdirt. However, that road followed a twisted and turning path through the heavily wooded part of the forest. Aside from the roadside bandit that he sought, there was the added danger of wild animals and other creatures of the forest. He had maintained an appropriate measure of alert as he travelled along the shadowed path through the woods.

As it passed, he had not actually encountered any of the wild creatures of the forest along his journey. At one point, he had heard the call of some wolves in the distance, but had not seen anything of immediate concern.

Forester had travelled to within less than two leagues of Hackdirt before he had finally encountered his quarry. He had only been partially surprised, as the armed bandit had sprung forth from cover. It might have been more the case that the bandit was surprised to find himself facing such a well-prepared opponent. Forester had not even needed to consider utilising his destruction magic. His skill with his blades had proved more than adequate to quickly dispatch the bandit with relative ease.

Examining the body of the brigand, Forester had found a red rope tied to the man's arm. He had thought that all of that gang had already been taken down. He cut the rope from bandit's arm and pocketed it. He then decided that he would continue on toward Hackdirt to spend the night. From there, he would travel the short distance northward to Chorrol and visit the Fighter's Guild office in that city.

* * *

The sun had just reached the point of midday as Forester had arrived outside the doors of the Fighter's Guild in Chorrol. It was located near to the northern end of the main street, only just short of the northern city gates. He paused just a moment outside the door to the Guildhall and then stepped inside.

At first, Forester had thought that the Guildhall seemed unattended. It certainly seemed rather quiet. He had then noticed an Imperial youth sitting in the far corner reading a book. He looked to be not much more than a boy. Before he had the opportunity to move toward the youth, his attention was drawn toward the sound of heavy footfalls coming down the wooden steps immediately to his right.

A relatively young man in polished armour moved briskly down the stairs from the upper level toward him. Forester had thought that he could be no older twenty-four at the most. In fact, he looked much younger. His hair was cropped short and his face clean shaved. His features were typically Imperial. He had stopped just a few paces in front of Forester, adopting an overly official looking stance.

Forester had recognised him as the Guild Porter. He had met him previously, but it had been almost two years since he had last passed through Chorrol. He couldn't quite place the younger man's name.

"Welcome to the Guild Hall." The Guild Porter spoke in a manner that reflected his stance. "Please state your business."

Forester cleared his throat. "Guild Porter, is the Guild Head available?"

"I am afraid not."

"Most unfortunate." Forester commented. "Well then, what about his second? Is he in the hall?"

"Karl gro-Baroth is attending the office. He should be available shortly. May I ask your name and the purpose of the visit?"

"Of course. Please let Karl gro-Baroth know that Forester of the Skingrad Fighter's Guild is here to see him. Guild business, of course."

"I will inform him." The Guild Porter turned and headed off up the stairs.

As he waited, Forester tried to remember the lad's name. He thought it was Daniel or something like that. He couldn't remember. He certainly remembered the name of the Orc. Karl was a decidedly non-Orsimer name. He had no intention of asking why he was given such a name. He had presumed that there must have been a very good reason. After all, the Orsimer were very serious about their names. The father's name passed to the son, the mother's name passed to the daughter and so on. Baroth was obviously his father's name. Someone named Karl must have been rather important to the family.

After a few lengthy moments, Forester's musings were interrupted as the Guild Porter finally returned. "Karl gro-Baroth will now see you in the office upstairs."

Forester stepped past the Porter and went up and around two flights of stairs and then up another short flight of steps to a large open office area with a large desk and several cupboards and bookshelves.

Behind the large desk, sat a huge Orsimer with bushy eyebrows and a perfectly bald head. The desk was covered with a mess of books and scrolls. He was dressed in casual clothing, but also wore a sleeveless leather vest of a similar shade to his khaki coloured skin.

At Forester's approach, the large Orsimer had put aside a scroll he was reading and looked up with his dark eyes.

"You Forester?" The Orsimer sought confirmation.

"Yes, sir. Malcolm Forester, out of the Skingrad office of the Fighter's Guild."

"Karl gro-Baroth." The Orsimer extended his arm in greeting.

Forester took Karl's arm. "Yes, sir. We have met once before."

Karl stared at Forester. "Thought I'd seen you before. Out of Skingrad, you say? What brings you here?"

"Well, some matter of happenstance, as it turns out." Forester paused. "I had learned of a bandit along the road between Brindle Home and Hackdirt. Since I was already in the area, I elected to do something it." Forester had noted an expression of irritation building upon Karl's face. He knew better than to draw the anger of an Orc. "Perhaps, this will explain." Forester had produced the length of red rope and placed it down upon the table.

Karl looked at the rope with some measure of scepticism. "Looks like it's from one of those Red Rope Bandits. I thought they'd all been taken down."

"That's what I'd heard, also." Forester offered. "Nonetheless, this roadside bandit was wearing the red rope upon his sleeve. I expect that this one had managed to evade the downfall of the rest of his gang."

Karl gro-Baroth continued to examine the red rope for a moment. "Looks just like the other ones I've seen. Least as far as I can tell. You didn't see any others? Or hear anything about any others?"

"No, I'm afraid not." Forester responded. "I hadn't anticipated… Well, there was no opportunity to discuss such matters, before I had dispatched the bandit."

"'Spose not." Karl commented. "Yeah, well I reckon that the reward still applies for taking out a Red Rope Bandit."

Forester started to speak. "I don't really…"

Karl cut him off. "Nah, look… I gotta fill out the paperwork for this anyway, so you might as well collect the reward. It's set at five-hundred for one of them Red Rope Bandits."

"Of course." Forester accepted.

Karl got up from behind the desk and headed over behind a partition near the side wall. After reaching into a lockup chest, he returned with a bag of payment. He then rummaged about in the pile of papers on his desk. Somewhere near the bottom of the pile, he found the appropriate scroll he was looking for.

"Here. I'm gonna need to get you to sign for that." Karl pushed the scroll forward with ink and pen.

Forester signed the document and accepted his payment.

Karl nodded his acceptance of the transaction. "One more thing… you get the word out if you come across any others like that… or if you hear of anything."

"Of course." Forester agreed. "Actually, I was hoping that you might be able to help me with something else."

Karl looked up with a mildly confused expression. "What's that?"

Forester composed himself briefly. "Well, I was hoping that you might know of the current whereabouts of some fellow Guild members. Northwind and Pinewatch."

Karl stared at Forester for a short moment. "Yeah, I know 'em. Why's that?

"Well, we had all worked together recently on a Guild contract." Forester explained. "I was hoping that I might meet up with them here in Chorrol. Since they usually operate out of this Guildhall…"

"You're outa luck." Karl responded. "They're takin' a break. Heard they headed up north for a while. Dunno when they'll be back."

Forester seemed disappointed. "Most unfortunate. I was hoping to meet with them."

"Yeah, well… I'll mention that… when I see 'em next."

"Most kind. Thankyou sir."

Forester excused himself and left Karl gro-Baroth to his mountains of paperwork, then departed the Guildhall.

Stepping back out onto the streets of Chorrol, Forester considered that he might remain in Chorrol for just a few days. After that, he intended to return to Skingrad. Perhaps, Northwind and Pinewatch might return to the city before he departed.

~O~


	3. Chapter 3

Evening Star

Greg J Miller

~O~

Chapter 3

Loredas the 7th of Frostfall 4E48

It was just a short time before the dawn as Alex stirred. He had quietly sidled out of the bed and then moved to climb up and peer out of the highset windows of the room. Aside from the purpose of letting some light into room, those small windows were far too high to easily see anything outside. He needed to stand up on the furniture. Even then, he could not really see much.

"Time's it?" Monika had slurred. She had been disturbed from her slumber by Alex's movement from the bed, as well as the subsequent noises that he made trying to get up to the high windows.

"It is just on dawn." Alex had responded quietly. He was still standing upon a set of drawers, trying to see outside. Even though those windows were really not designed to provide for a view, Alex remained undeterred. It wasn't just the height of the windows that presented difficulty. They had probably not been cleaned in some time.

Monika had rolled over to see Alex standing buck naked and balanced upon the old wooden furniture, clinging to the edge of the window frame. "What are you doing?" There was an edge of annoyance to her tone.

Alex had paused before answering. He was still trying to see outside. "I think that the storms have passed."

"Get down, before you bloody fall down… and be careful." If not for her more strangely blended accent, Monika's tone might have reminded Alex of his departed mother, rather than that of his lover. Her accent still seemed unlike any that Alex had heard before. A result of her earlier years growing up in Solstheim, Solitude and then Wayrest, before later returning to Cyrodiil, where she was originally born.

"Okay." Alex responded, carefully climbing down from the precarious position. "I am fairly sure that the skies have cleared."

"Alright, then." Monika mumbled. She rubbed her eyelids a few times and stretched, but did not make any effort to get up from the bed.

Alex stood by the bed with an expectant expression.

Monika recognised Alex's undisguised impatience. "Yeah, yeah. Alright, I'm getting up." She tossed the covers aside and sat upon the edge of the bed.

Alex had made use of the chamber pot and then started to dress in his leathers. By the time that he was just about dressed in his leathers and looking to pull his boots on, he had noticed that Monika was still sitting idly and staring at the floor, her light brown hair messed and half covering her face. Her slightly pointed ears protruded from her hair. Those features came from her Altmer mother, as did the amber colour of her eyes. Her other features mostly leaned more toward her father's Nord heritage. Still, her slender athletic frame seemed more typical of her Altmer half.

Alex had turned to face Monika, but said nothing.

"I'm up." Monika protested in response to Alex's silent accusation. She finally got up from the bed and attended to immediate matters before she started to get dressed.

"It was your idea to travel to…" Alex had trailed off, instantly regretting the words.

Monika paused as she fumbled with her leathers. A darkened glance flashed briefly in Alex's direction. Alex had grown familiar with recognising the rather obvious signs of her annoyance. For one, the colouring of her amber eyes would shift more toward a shade of brown, closer to the colour of Alex's darker eyes. Her eyes seemed at least a light shade of pure brown in that moment. Alex considered keeping quiet for a few moments as the better option.

Alex continued to put on the rest of the others items more suitable to that cooler climate. He put on the leather gloves and the heavy hooded cloak, tying it off about his waist. He was relatively accustomed to wearing that type of thing during the cooler months in Skyrim.

Still, it was a bit more difficult now that he was also trying to accommodate the other equipment that he carried. A fighter's outfit was a bit more involved than what he used to wear about Pinewatch Farm. It was quite awkward trying to get his backpack and quiver in place over the cloak. His sword hung easily enough beneath the cloak. However, it was just easier to carry his bow and shield rather than trying sling them upon his shoulders.

Monika was far more annoyed with the attire, mostly the heavy cloak. She was far less accustomed to the colder climate. Perhaps more so since she had passed most of the last decade in Cyrodiil. It had been a long time since she had endured a truly cold winter. At the beginning of Frostfall, it wasn't even winter yet. However, in the highlands of Skyrim, the autumn could easily feel a lot like winter. The bulk of that heavier outfit truly annoyed her, but where they were headed, it would be really cold.

Alex was just about loaded up. He only needed to pick up his shield and bow. He had assisted Monika with getting her pack into place over her cloak. Since she used a hip-quiver, it was one less thing to struggle with. She kept her light mace and dagger about her belt. She had also long since elected to just carry her bow and shield as they trekked through the north.

Once they were just about ready, Monika had paused a moment and fumbled for the comb that she kept in a pocket that was usually more easily accessible. Alex had noticed that her eyes had returned to their normal colour. She was still annoyed with her outfit, but seemed rather less annoyed with him.

In the moment, Alex was again considering how Monika appeared no more two or three years his senior. If fact, she was about twenty years older than that. Another effect of her mother's bloodline. In general, Altmer lived much longer and aged far more slowly.

Monika ran a comb through her hair before turning back toward Alex. She stood just a little taller than he did. That was also partly due to her mother's Altmer heritage.

Monika reached up and fidgeted with Alex's hair before taking her comb to it. "You're hair's getting longer."

Alex's hair had previously been of a moderately medium length. However, it had been some time since it had been cut. It was starting to grow down past his collar and hang lower about the front.

"Should I cut it?" Alex made the suggestion.

Monika smiled a little as she finished with the comb. "No. I think I like it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. More of a… a Nord warrior look."

Alex raised his eyebrows in surprise. He didn't look like much of a Nord warrior. He wasn't small, but he wasn't a large man either. His height was just average for a Nord. His frame was actually a little on the lighter side, but with a moderately healthy tone of muscle from his life on the farm. His features weren't especially rugged or notably memorable, nor was he overly handsome or boyish. The colour of his hair was just average brown, as were his eyes. Even his nose seemed rather average, not large, not small. Alex had sometimes amused himself by thinking that he might have had the perfect face for an outlaw, because nobody would remember what he looked like. That was probably something of an exaggeration.

Monika had gently squeezed Alex's shoulder. "Come on, we should go see if it's clear enough to head out."

Alex nodded his agreement.

Monika and Alex collected their bows and shields and left their room at the Vilemyr Inn. They then headed outside to the road that ran through the middle of Ivarstead.

* * *

Alex and Monika had firstly arrived at the small township of Ivarstead during the evening of Turdas. They had just come directly from the town of Helgen, several leagues to the west of that location. It had taken them the entire day, moving at quite a brisk pace to cover the distance in that time, sometimes running for short periods. Even leaving before the dawn, it was well after sunset by the time that they arrived at their destination. It might have taken half that time if there had been a wagon headed that way.

Ivarstead was just a small town situated by the eastern slopes of the tallest mountain in Skyrim. In fact, it was said to be the tallest mountain in all of Tamriel. The high peak was commonly known as The Throat of the World. The proper Nordic name for monastery near the top was High Hrothgar.

Ivarstead was quite remote in the general scheme of things. It was located in the far-western highland region of the Hold of The Rift. It was about as far from the city of Riften as one could travel without leaving that Hold. The township was just a little north of the long road that extended all the way from Riften in the east, to Falkreath in the west. The road north of Ivarstead followed a narrow winding path that eventually led around the mountains to the city of Whiterun and other places further north.

By some measure, Ivarstead might have seemed to barely qualify as a town. It was little more than a few houses and an inn. There were also a few small farms. The only other thing of note was the timber sawmill by the stream that ran alongside the place. Aside from the people, the place probably hardly changed over the years.

Upon their arrival at Ivarstead, Monika and Alex had planned to stay overnight at the Inn and then head off early the next morning.

The Vilemyr Inn was a typical old Nordic longhouse constructed of heavy timber over stone foundations. Like most of the inns of Skyrim, a large open hearth burned at the centre of the tavern area. It was most welcoming after the bitter cold of the early Frostfall evening outside.

Since Ivarstead was such a remote place, Alex and Monika had no trouble securing the best room in the place, such as it was. Aside from only a couple of locals that were just about finished with the tavern for the evening, they had been the only other customers of the inn that night.

It had been their intent to set off early on Fredas morning to climb the Seven-Thousand Steps that led up the mountain to the monastery at High Hrothgar. However, they had risen that morning to learn that a great wall of storm clouds was rapidly rolling in from the north. It would have posed far too great a risk to consider ascending the mountain in those circumstances. Alex and Monika had turned back and returned to the inn to wait for the next day. Provided that the storms had passed, they intended to try again on Loredas.

* * *

It was still quite early as Alex and Monika stepped onto the road that ran through Ivarstead. Surveying the sky, there was no sign of the terrible weather that had turned them back the previous day. The skies seemed relatively clear in each direction, with just a few wispy clouds above the mountains to the south. Of course, the mountain above them still seemed shrouded in a clinging fog. There was a lighter fog rising from the township as the morning sun struggled to dispel the chill from the air. The fog seemed to roll off the stream that ran alongside the town and evaporate in the early morning sunlight.

Alex and Monika headed along the road, passing the houses and the timber sawmill until they reached the northern edge of Ivarstead. Some of the farmers were already up and working their small plots of land. Only passing attention was paid to the travellers leaving the town.

Just beyond the northern end of the road through Ivarstead, Monika and Alex took the old stone bridge that crossed over the stream and again followed the path that began the long ascent up the mountain. They had not gone much further than that the previous day, before deciding to abort the ascent of the mountain.

Everything looked much better that day. Still, even provided that the weather held, it would be an arduous journey up to the monastery near the top of the mountain. They planned to maintain a steady pace as they climbed the so-called Seven-Thousand Steps. They fully intended to reach the top before nightfall. They hoped to learn answers to some puzzling questions. However, neither of them really knew what to expect.

~O~


	4. Chapter 4

Evening Star

Greg J Miller

~O~

Chapter 4

Fredas the 6th of Frostfall 4E48

It was the morning of the day before Alex and Monika would climb the mountain toward The Throat of the World.

After that long trek from Helgen the previous day, Alex and Monika had both slept quite solidly in the bed at the Vilemyr Inn of Ivarstead. It had actually seemed a little difficult to rise with the dawn, but they needed to make an early start if they hoped to make it up to the top of the mountain before nightfall.

However upon that first attempt to ascend the mountain, they had hardly begun the journey before turning around and heading back to the inn. The great wall of dark storm clouds rapidly approaching from the north held the threat of dangerous weather. That threat seemed far too significant to even consider ascending the mountain in such conditions.

Monika and Alex made their way back from the base of the mountain and then back up the road that ran through Ivarstead. They had stopped for a moment upon the front porch of the Vilemyr Inn.

"It looks like a really big one." Alex was looking out across the northern sky.

"It's coming in pretty fast, too." Monika had commented. "I suppose it might pass fairly quickly… but it'll probably be too late by then."

"I would not be so sure of that." Alex offered. "Of it passing quickly, I mean."

Monika glanced to Alex.

Alex continued. "I am not all that familiar with this part of Skyrim, but in Falkreath, only the storms that come from the southern mountains move over fairly quickly. If bad weather comes from the north, then it has probably come all the way from the northern seas. That usually means something big."

Monika didn't seem particular happy about it, but there was nothing to be done but accept the circumstance. "Yeah, we might as well stay inside then."

Alex and Monika headed back into the inn.

Anja, the publican's wife, had been sweeping the floor as Monika and Alex came back inside the inn. She stopped and looked in their direction. Anja was an older Nord woman; her once auburn locks were streaked with gray.

"Back so soon?" Anja had spoken with her thick Nordic accent.

Alex responded. "There is a big storm headed this way."

"Is there, now?" Anja had obviously not been outside yet.

"From the north." Alex added.

Anja seemed suitably concerned. "From the north, you say?" She moved to the front door and peered outside. "That doesn't look good at all. I'd best get Wolfgar to batten things down." Anja turned back a moment. "I expect you'll be staying here a little longer, then. You just make yourselves comfortable. I'll be right back." She dashed off to find her husband.

Monika and Alex had shed their cloaks and heavier equipment, settling into seats by the central hearth of the inn. They had planned to eat some dried rations as they climbed the mountain path. Since they weren't going anywhere soon, they had decided that they might as well sit back and have something to eat.

After a short while, Anja had returned. She had offered Monika and Alex something to drink. It was a little early in the day for ale. However, Anja had told them that she had a supply of sweet cinnamon tea and offered to brew a pot.

The older Nord publican had returned through the front door. A few leaves were blown past him, whipped up by the wind outside. The thinning stands of his gray hair whipped across his face. Wolfgar paused just a moment by the door before closing it. "Looks like the storm is just about here." He turned to face Monika and Alex. "I expect that you'll be staying for the day."

"Yeah, looks like it." Monika agreed. "We'll be wanting to stay another night."

"That won't be a problem." Wolfgar seemed well pleased to have the business.

Alex got up and followed Wolfgar over to the service bar. He paid for another night's lodging and also paid for the cinnamon tea.

After a short while, Anjar had brought over the tea. By that time, the sounds of thunder, wind and rain could be heard coming from outside.

Alex had Monika each had a couple of books in their packs. They both took out something to read and settled back with their tea. It promised to be quite a long day with little else to do.

* * *

Sitting about the inn at Ivarstead for most of Fredas, with the weather raging outside, Monika and Alex had plenty of time to consider the recent events of the past few months.

Monika was reading yet another one those books that spoke of the ancient Nords of the earlier eras. She was still looking for clues that might shed some light over questions she had pondered since she came to know Alex.

Alex had been trying to read his own book. However, his mind often drifted as he recalled the events of the past few months. Of the two of them, it was Alex's recent experiences that had proved the most life-changing. He had previously commented to Monika that he felt he had done more in the past few months than in the previous ten years.

Just three months earlier, Alexander Pinewatch had set off from Falkreath. Before that time, he had been a farmer on Pinewatch Farm, just like his parents and his grandparents.

After losing all of his valuables to unexpected circumstances in the mountain pass south-west of Falkreath, Alex found himself wandering the Colovian Highlands of County Chorrol in Cyrodiil. He had actually been on his way to Chorrol when things had taken a turn in a direction well outside of his plans.

Alex had intended to set off in search of great adventure. He had been inspired and influenced by the many tales that his grandfather had shared when he was still alive. Grandfather Erik had travelled all over Tamriel during his youth before he had settled down at Pinewatch Farm with Grandmother Illiana. Alex was still only twenty-seven. Thus far, he had never followed through to the point of entering into marriage. Since the recent passing of his mother, there was no other family left for him at the farm. He had sold the place to a retired captain from Falkreath and set off for Cyrodiil and adventure. In many ways, he found far more than he had bargained for.

Alex had begun his life of adventure rather ill equipped. At that time, he had no more than the most basic skill with a bow or sword from what his grandfather had shown him when he was still a boy. He was very much more of a farmer than a fighter.

After a few days in the wilderness with limited supplies, Alex had met with Monika Northwind of the Chorrol Fighter's Guild. With just an old hunting bow, he had helped her fight off a small group of goblins. Alex had quietly surprised himself by killing two of them without getting hurt. Monika hadn't actually needed his help. She had said as much at the time.

At first, it seemed reasonable to assume that she didn't like him at all. Still, she had recognised that Alex posed no direct threat. In fact, she had more recognised that he would have probably have gotten himself killed, if she hadn't let him tag along.

During the fading light of the previous day, Alex had thought that she was probably a Nord from one of the other lands of Tamriel. She looked like a taller fair-haired Nordic woman with a slender athletic frame. She stood a little taller than Alex.

In the morning light, Alex had observed that Monika looked a little more different than he had previous thought. He had soon learned that Monika's father was Nord, but her mother was Altmer. Such things were not all that common. Certainly not in Alex's homeland of Skyrim. However, in the more cosmopolitan Imperial City of Cyrodiil, things were a little different. It was still not a common thing, just not unheard of.

During those first few days in the wilderness, they had fought off other wild creatures of the forest. Alex had sustained injuries during one encounter, but Monika had enough basic healing skills to help him. During another encounter, Monika had been seriously injured. Aside from luck, the only other thing that saved them had actually come from Alex.

Many years earlier, Alex's grandfather had learned of a rare and unusual skill that he possessed. Erik had been summoned to climb the tall mountain by the old monks that lived in the secluded monastery. They thought that he might be some sort of prophesised 'dragonborn' that they had been looking for. As it passed, he was not the one they were waiting for. After those monks had tested him, Erik had declined any further training and returned home to the farm and his Imperial wife.

When Alex was just fifteen, Grandfather Erik had taught him that single word of force that he knew in the ancient dragon tongue. They found that Alex also possessed the same ability as his grandfather, if only in a limited fashion. He could use it perhaps once every few days and it left him nearly incapacitated immediately afterward.

Nonetheless, that dragon voice shout had saved both Alex and Monika as he pushed a huge ogre over a cliff with nothing more than the force of his voice.

Once Alex had recovered, he had taken Monika to a safer location. He was certainly no healer. All he had on hand was the healing potions in her pack and a great deal of wishful thinking. Nevertheless, with Alex's assistance, Monika had eventually recovered enough to heal herself with magic. It was a few days before she had recovered enough to continue onward.

By the time that Monika and Alex had travelled to Chorrol, they had managed to take down a total of six of the Red Rope Bandits that had been plaguing County Chorrol. After collecting their rewards, Monika had commenced Alex's official training with the Fighter's Guild.

It was during that time in Chorrol, that the relationship between Monika and Alex had become more involved. Even since that time, it had still remained somewhat ill defined. They had become close friends and lovers, but Monika remained resistant to the pursuit of anything more formal.

Aside from that personal circumstance, they were both active members of the Fighter's Guild. Still, Monika remained the more experienced senior member with regard to that partnership. She held a fifth-level ranking with the Guild, after a previous demotion a few years before. Of course, Alex only held a first-level ranking.

Monika had not even finished with Alex's official basic training before they had taken on a Fighter's Guild contract. It was only a delivery of important documents, but it was for the Penitus Oculatus. Fortunately, that job had passed without incident. The only surprise had been an unexpected meeting with Crown Prince Attrebus.

However, that first contract had led to another more involved job, also contracted by the Penitus Oculatus. That was the Guild contract that saw Monika and Alex partnered with Malcolm Forester and others, including some Penitus Oculatus field agents. The same contract that nearly cost the lives of everyone involved.

The team needed to retrieve an ancient Ayleid artefact before a group of Thalmor spies got their hands on it. Just as they had finally acquired the objective, they were ambushed by the Thalmor agents.

At the height of that mission, everyone had been downed including Alex. The last Thalmor standing had believed everyone else killed or incapacitated. He had taken the artefact and prepared to make his escape. Only at the very last moment, Alex had recovered enough that he had been able to get up. He had found some else's weapon and managed to attack the last Thalmor mage from behind. In his final act before surrendering to a long darkness, Alex had killed the Thalmor agent and damaged the ancient Ayleid artefact that threatened the future of the Empire. The last thing that Alex had remembered was that he had unleashed the dragon tongue shout as he struck that final blow.

Eleven days had passed as the healers sought to restore Alex. It had remained doubtful that he would ever awaken. With the expert treatment of the healers, both Forester and Monika had recovered days earlier. Monika had remained by Alex's side for most of that time.

Alex had finally regained consciousness on the ninth day of Last Seed. However, it was not until the twenty-fifth day of that month that he had actually recovered enough for them go upon their way.

Leaving the Imperial City behind, Monika and Alex had stopped at the Wawnet Inn in the village of Weye, just outside the city. They had visited with Nerussa, the aged Altmer woman that owned the place. Of course, they could not tell Nerussa anything about the recent mission for the Empire.

Nerussa had run the Wawnet Inn for decades, since the time of Emperor Uriel Septim VII. Over the years, she had grown old and frail and very nearly blind. Nerussa had been a close friend of Monika's mother. Of course, that was before Elwyn and Nikulas Northwind had gone away to the north, eventually settling in the port city of Wayrest in High Rock. Monika had only been an infant when they left the Imperial City.

Since Monika had returned to Cyrodiil about eight years earlier, Nerussa had treated her as though she had been her own surrogate niece. For some time, Nerussa had been trying to persuade Monika to leave the Fighter's Guild. Only recently, Nerussa had tried to convince Monika to take over the inn, intimating that she intended to leave the place to her after she was gone. Monika had remained resistant to leaving the Guild behind. More than that, she didn't really want to think about Nerussa's passing, let alone accepting the inn. Not like that.

Having survived that recent mission and quite possibly preserving the future of the Empire, Monika and Alex had also received a notable payment for their service. As well as the already generous payment for the contract, the Penitus Oculatus had also paid an official bonus that nearly doubled the original contract payment. On top of that, Prince Attrebus had added an unofficial reward. They were each offered either a package of land or gold of equal value.

Monika had accepted the gold. She had used a portion of that wealth to pay off Nerussa's debts and buy into the Wawnet Inn as part owner. However, she still intended to remain with the Fighter's Guild for the immediate future.

After some consideration, Alex had decided to go with the land. Attrebus agreed with Alex's decision. Treb had actually found a plot of crown land at the northern edge of Weye that had been set aside for future farmland.

Monika and Alex had only stayed a single night at the Wawnet Inn. They had told Nerussa that they intended to return to Chorrol for a brief period of leave from official duty with Fighters' Guild.

Alex and Monika had headed back to Chorrol at a casual pace, arriving there on Sundas the twenty-seventh of Last Seed. After a couple days of rest, they had attended to the rest of Alex's official training to validate his proper status with the Fighter's Guild. Monika had also taken him through some other light training exercises over the following days. In part, that was to help him regain some strength after his recent injuries. She also meant to test the extent of his recovery. Alex had seemed to do well enough, but she didn't push him all that hard.

In fact, since they had decided to take time off, they did very little over the following month. They had accepted only one contract from Fighter's Guild during that time. It had been a relatively simple task.

A farmer located up The Black Road, north-west of Chorrol, had reported that wolves had been attacking his farm animals. That job had taken only two days. There were just the three wolves in the pack. The task had been completed without great difficulty.

It was during the short walk back from that farm that Alex had decided to test a suspicion that he held. He had known that he had felt different since he had awoken from his injuries a few weeks earlier. He held some idea of what it could be, but he wasn't quite certain.

Upon a secluded stretch of road, Alex had tried to test his ability with that dragon voice shout. He found that it was gone. He had tried a second time and a third. He made the right sounds and tried to draw upon the familiar sensations, but there was nothing there. None of the magical dragon force and none of the ill effect that previously left him incapacitated and gasping for breath.

Alex had discussed it at some length with Monika. They had thought that they knew at least part of the probable reason. Alex had shouted as he struck the enchanted Ayleid artefact. They expected that the magicka released from the artefact was the likely cause. From Monika's recent reading, they had suspected that Alex might have been descended from one of the ancient dragon lords of the early days of Skyrim. It was not as though they could know for certain, but if that was the case then it was something in his bloodline that gave him that ability. Whether it was gone for good or merely suppressed, was something that they could not know.

The rest of the month had passed fairly quietly as Alex and Monika continued to take time off from active duties with the Guild. Toward the end of Hearthfire, all of Chorrol became far more excitable. The twenty-seventh of Hearthfire marked the day of the Harvest's End festival.

That festival marked the end of the harvest seasons for the year. Many of the northern farmers had already taken their last harvests weeks earlier and some in the south still had a few weeks with their last crops, but that was the official day of festival.

The populace of Chorrol had swollen to bursting for that day. All of the local farmers had come to town with their families. The taverns would be offering free drinks all day long. The Countess would be covering the expense and the Empire would be covering her own. It was all about raising the spirits of the farmers and the common folk ahead of the coming winter.

Before the day was even half done, it seemed that many spirits had been raised and downed from emptied tankards, as well as various wines and ales. Stumbling drunks were a common sight upon the streets. Most had seemed to maintain good cheer. More than few had made themselves sick. The city guards were kept quite busy watching for the occasional troublemaker.

Not all of the festival could be contained within the city walls. The activity outside the southern city gates seemed just as vibrant. The area near to the southern city wall had been settled by some of the refugees of the Cheydinhal disaster of about five years earlier. With the permission of Countess Alessia, those that had not returned to rebuild their city had established houses and small farms just outside of the city walls.

An additional number of temporary market stalls lined the road south of the gate for the day of the festival. The large stabling facilities were full to bursting and small wagons lined the road beyond the extent of the immediate edge of the city.

Although well short of the excess of some others, Monika had taken full advantage of the day of festival. She drank much more than she might usually. Still, her mixed heritage had provided her with a hardy constitution in that regard.

Alex almost hardly drank at all in usual circumstances. He had put those days behind some time ago. Still, with Monika's influence he had drunk just a little more than usual, but not too much. He didn't much like being drunk and certainly didn't like making himself sick.

Monika and Alex had retired to their rented accommodations before the night grew late. The hours approaching midnight and beyond often promised to be the busiest time for the city guards. It was better to be off the streets than risk becoming involved in any troublesome activities.

It was later that evening that Monika had again raised the matter of Alex's absent dragon voice ability. She had already done so upon a number of occasions over the past weeks. Alex had not been all that concerned. For him, it had been enough to know that it was gone. He was content to accept the circumstance for what it was. Monika's curiosity had seemed far less easily set aside. It was that night that Monika had finally convinced Alex to travel to the mountain in Skyrim and seek counsel with the monks that lived there.

After having settled upon the matter, Monika had informed the Guild that they would both be unavailable for the next few weeks. Then they had waited a further four days for the next northbound wagon. A trade wagon left Chorrol on the first Morndas of each month, bound for Falkreath via the pass in the western Jerall Mountains. It was the same pass that Alex had come through a few months earlier, near where the borders of Cyrodiil, Skyrim and Hammerfell all intersected.

It was no surprise to Alex to learn that the traders had lost a driver and a guard about three months earlier. Both had mysteriously disappeared upon returning from Falkreath. They would have been the ones that had robbed Alex and left him lying on the side of the road in the mountain pass. He had still not mentioned the details of that particular happenstance to Monika. It was more out of embarrassment than anything else.

Upon the second of Frostfall, Monika and Alex had arrived in Falkreath with the setting of the sun. Monika had quickly gained some perspective of how Alex had been overwhelmed by the cities of Cyrodiil. Falkreath was little more than a larger town by her measure. The general style of the place seemed a match for Bruma. The structures reflected that typical Nordic construction of heavy log over stone foundation. However, Falkreath seemed no larger than perhaps a quarter of the size of Bruma.

Leaving the wagon behind, Alex and Monika had gone directly to the tavern in the main street. Alex seemed well acquainted with the publican of the inn. He was a middle-aged and heavy-set Nord with an impressive dark beard. His name was Bormir.

Only since Bormir had asked about it, Alex had indicated that he had recently become a member of the Fighter's Guild in Cyrodiil. Bormir had seemed vaguely impressed. Perhaps more so because he had only ever thought of Alex as a farmer.

Having acquiring meals and drinks from Bormir, Monika and Alex had secured lodgings to stay at the inn for just the one night.

After just a quick look about in the morning, they had headed off on foot along the road to the east. It was only a few leagues along that road to Alex's former family home at Pinewatch Farm. Of course, they had intended to stop there along the way. Old Captain Bolfur had greeted them warmly at the farm. He had insisted upon putting them up for the night before they continued their journey. Alex had also renewed acquaintance with the two farmhands, Ortis and Sten.

Alex and Monika set off again the next morning bound for the township of Helgen. It was a bit of a longer journey to that location, mostly due to the winding path of the road as it climbed to higher land. Still, it had not taken them much more than two-thirds of the day at a fairly casual pace. Aside from a single incident with a lone wolf, that journey had passed without great incident.

Monika had found that Helgen seemed immediately different from Falkreath from the outside. The township was not fully open in the fashion of Falkreath. Helgen was surrounded by a fortified wall constructed of standing logs. However, once inside the walls of Helgen, it seemed rather similar to Falkreath, only somewhat smaller.

Alex and Monika had secured lodgings at Helgen's only inn. They planned for an early night. The next morning would be the fifth of Frostfall. They would rise before the dawn and set off with the intention of making it all the way to Ivarstead that day.

Of course, Monika and Alex had made it to Ivarstead, but not before the sun had dropped behind the western horizon. The last part of the journey had been completed under the glow of Masser and Secundus, with watchful eyes alerted to unexpected danger.

Monika had been surprised that no soldiers seemed to patrol the roads as they did in Cyrodiil. At least, not beyond the immediate vicinity of the towns or cities. She was also surprised that they had not encountered any opportunistic bandits along the road. Alex had suggested that they had just been lucky. He assured her that Skyrim also had its share of roadside bandits. However, they were more often encountered nearer to the busiest of settlements rather than out in the wilderness. That information had only served to raise Monika's level of alert along the final leg of the journey. Nevertheless, they arrived at Ivarstead without incident.

* * *

That period of rest during the evening of Turdas night had seemed all too short. However, the turn of the weather had provided them with far more rest than they really needed during Fredas. Alex and Monika would be more than well rested for Loredas morning and the arduous climb up the mountain.

~O~


	5. Chapter 5

Evening Star

Greg J Miller

~O~

Chapter 5

Loredas the 7th of Frostfall 4E48

Under the clear morning skies, Alex and Monika had begun their journey up the mountain, climbing the so-called Seven-Thousand Steps. It was the second time that they had started that journey. So far, the weather seemed to be on their side.

The path was still damp from the rain that fell the previous day. Fortunately, the water had seemed to run away cleanly, leaving little muck in its wake. Still, they needed to pay attention for slippery patches.

After only a short time, Alex had spotted a carved stone cairn just off the path by the rocky cliff face. Monika had not paid much attention to it, more intent upon watching her footing and maintaining a good pace up the mountain.

Monika had just noticed that Alex wasn't beside or immediately behind her. She turned to see why he had fallen behind. Alex had left the path to take a quick look at the stone cairn.

Monika stopped and called out. "What are doing?"

Alex had paused, raising his hand and pointing at the cairn with his bow.

"We don't have time for that." Monika's tone held some measure of irritation.

Alex hesitated. "It could be important."

Monika sighed. Her shoulders slumped slightly. "Alright, then." Monika headed back toward Alex. "But we should be quick about it."

Alex nodded and stepped over toward the cairn. In some respects, it looked a little like a shrine of sorts. It sat upon a plain stone platform. The whole thing stood just a little taller than Alex. The outer frame was carved in the shape of arch, but it was solid with flat vertical stone filling the centre section. Old Nordic carvings decorated the outer arch. A stylised carving of a dragonhead featured about the lower part of the vertical stone. Just above that was a plaque. Alex had leaned forward to examine it more closely. The writing upon that plaque was carved in old Nordic characters. It seemed to form three distinct statements.

Monika had stepped up beside Alex to look at the plaque. "Can you read that?"

Alex squinted at the old plaque. "I think so. It is old Nord, but it is just simple text."

Monika could read modern Nordic well enough. It was practically the same as Imperial Cyrodiilic. However, she could only make out bits and pieces of something like that. She glanced sideways to Alex with some expectation. "Well?"

"Before the beginning… no." Alex paused. "Before the BIRTH of men, the dragons ruled over all Mundas." He paused again. "Their word was… the voice.. and they spoke only for… true needs." He paused to read the third line. "For the voice could blot out the sky and flood the land."

Alex looked back to Monika. "What do you think?"

Monika rolled it over in her mind. "Just what it says… I expect. I'm pretty sure I read something like that in some of those books about ancient Nords." She paused and then stepped back away from the cairn. "Come on. We need to keep moving."

"Okay." Alex took a step toward Monika and they continued onward up the mountain.

The mountain path ascended along the eastern side of the mountain for quite a way before turning sharply and doubling back over itself and climbing sharply again. Looking over the edge, Ivarstead could still be seen far below.

Monika and Alex had paused just once a little further along to retrieve some dried food from each other's packs. They didn't stop to eat, but kept moving along, eating as they climbed the path. Nor did they stop to drink. They each kept a water flask readily accessible upon their belts.

After almost two hours, Monika had been suddenly startled by some movement up ahead. She stopped abruptly. Alex mirrored her action.

"What?" Alex whispered.

Monika said nothing.

Just then, two shaggy mountain goats took flight from behind some bushes by the side of the path. They had bolted onto the path and then headed off up the steps with haste.

Monika released a sigh. "Come on."

Alex fell into step as Monika resumed.

A little further ahead, they had come upon another one of those stone cairns at a sharp bend in the path. Monika had taken some note of it, but Alex seemed more interested.

Alex spoke up. "Should we…?"

Monika released a huffy sigh. "Alright, but just quickly."

Alex diverted his step to head toward the cairn. It looked just like the last one, except that the stone plaque said something different.

After a short moment, Alex had read out the words upon the plaque. "Men were born and spread over the face of Mundas… The dragons… presided over the… crawling masses… men were weak then, and had no voice."

Monika commented. "Just more of the same."

"Hmm." Alex considered the words, but had nothing more to offer.

Monika patted Alex upon the shoulder as she turned to resume the climb. Alex also turned and quickly fell into step beside her.

The path seemed to become a little more hazardous in places. Where the stone steps were fully exposed, it was mostly dry by then. However, there were a few places where water still ran downhill, providing a mix of wet and dry stone surfaces. Furthermore, there were a few stretches that only provided soggy ground. Great care needed to be taken to avoid slipping or falling.

Once they had been climbing for more than three hours, they had reached an altitude where liquid water was longer evident. The only water about was in the form of snow and ice. It didn't make the ground or steps much less hazardous.

A little further along, Alex had voiced a thought. "Do you think that there are really seven-thousand steps?"

"Don't know. Not counting." Monika was paying more attention to her footing.

"I think that…" Alex fell silent as Monika grabbed his arm and came to a halt.

Monika remained silent, looking at something up ahead. It was at the top of the rise on a patch of snow covered ground where no stone steps were exposed.

"Is that a goat?" Alex whispered.

"Looks like." Monika agreed.

"It might have fallen." Alex suggested, although he suspected otherwise.

Monika continued to look ahead toward the carcass. "Too much blood." The snow had turned red by the edge of the dead goat.

Alex proceeded to push his shield up his arm toward his shoulder and readied his bow. Monika had nodded her silent agreement and did the same. Neither of them was sure what to expect, but they intended to remain at alert.

They moved forward slowly and quietly. It seemed odd that the carcass of the goat remained unattended if an animal had attacked it. Alex was wondering if there was someone else up there. Monika was considering a number of possibilities.

Before they had even drawn close to the dead mountain goat, they suddenly heard the sound of rapid footfalls growing louder. The source of the noise became evident as the second goat came into view from over the rise ahead. It was running blindly toward Monika and Alex. Or perhaps more the case, it was running away from something and headed downhill.

Alex and Monika both held their fire. The goat ignored them completely, running straight past them at speed. Its eyes bulged in terror. Different noises became immediately evident. They firstly heard a heavy stomping sound. That noise was accompanied by grunting and growling noises. A huge hairy creature emerged from over the rise ahead. It was a large frost troll. Its fur was the same colour as the snow. Its massive arms reached down to its knees. Its clawed hands were even larger than those of the Cyrodiilic trolls. Just like those from Cyrodiil, the troll had a third eye set upon its forehead.

It seemed that the frost troll still thought it was chasing a goat. It became even more agitated once it saw Alex and Monika. They wasted no time with their own reactions. They had started releasing arrows the moment they were certain of the range. It had taken at least ten arrows, but the troll never managed to get even close before they had brought it down.

Monika and Alex remained upon alert, holding the concern that the frost troll might not have been alone. Alex had checked the body of the frost troll as Monika kept her eyes upon the path ahead. He retrieved the arrows that could be easily removed.

They continued onward past the carcass of the dead mountain goat. There was no other indication of immediate danger.

Just beyond the top of the rise, the path began to turn toward the west. It seemed to be leading to the southern side of the mountain. Near some shrubs at a bend in the trail, they found a third stone cairn just like previous ones further below.

Alex had silently glanced to Monika. She understood the unspoken question in his expression and nodded her agreement.

After briefly checking that they were alone, Alex stepped over toward the stone cairn and examined the writing upon the plaque.

Alex again read out the words, struggling with the first part. "The… the… the fledgling spirits… of men were strong in old times. Unafraid to war with dragons and their voices… but the dragons only shouted them down and broke their hearts."

Alex looked to Monika and stepped away from the cairn.

Monika spoke. "It seems like another flavoured retelling of ancient times… still not much different from some of the books."

Alex just nodded his agreement, then looked toward the path ahead.

Monika agreed with his unspoken thought. "Yeah, we better keep moving."

They fell into step once again and continued along the path.

The stretch ahead along the southern side of the mountain had soon levelled out for a bit. Then it actually seemed to lead downhill for a way. It seemed wrong that the trail would lead downward rather than upward, but the shape of the terrain dictated the path.

There appeared to be quite a few trees along the southern side. Much more than there had been about the eastern side. Most were taller pine trees. There were also a variety of lesser shrubs. The undisturbed growth served to raise the level of alert for unexpected dangers.

A light but chilly westerly breeze made that southern side of the mountain immediately unappealing. Added to the chilling effect, the breeze also whipped up the surface of ground snow as well as loose snow upon the leaves of the trees and shrubs. That tended to reduce clear visibility ahead. Though none of it fell from the sky, it almost seemed like a very light snowfall.

Upon more than one occasion, they been startled by the pieces of old cloth tied to some of the stone guideposts along the path. From a distance, the movement created from the wind whipping at the cloth had looked like a person.

It was not that far before the path took them uphill again as it wound about the southern side of the mountain. By the time that midday was drawing near, it seemed that it would not be that long before the trail reached the western side of the mountain. The trail certainly seemed to be headed that way.

It was probably just past the point of midday that Alex and Monika had just crested another rise before yet another short downhill run ahead. They had spotted a fourth stone cairn in the distance, further along that next stretch.

Just as they had started down the steps, Monika had stopped sharply and reached to take Alex's arm.

Alex glanced to Monika, then adjusted his gaze to match her own. They could see a man coming down the path ahead. They had assumed a state of alert, readying themselves for the possibility of threat. Their bows were prepared while there was still a good distance between them and the man up ahead.

After a short moment, the man had noticed Alex and Monika. He had waved to them in a friendly manner. They could not yet see if he carried any obvious weapons. He did seem to have some bulk upon his back. One of his arms was holding a bag or a sack over a shoulder.

As he drew a little closer, the man seemed to be a fair-haired Nord. His frame was tall and wiry. He did actually have a smaller fighting hammer hanging from his belt, but had not made any obvious indication that he planned to draw the weapon.

Monika and Alex had not shifted from their position and remained upon alert.

Once the man had reached shouting distance, he had waved again and then called out. "Strangers." He said it in a friendly manner. "Grandson of Erik?"

Monika had glanced sideways to Alex just briefly, but otherwise maintained her focus upon the stranger. Alex had blinked his eyes, as though his eyelids would dispel his confusion.

Monika had made a gesture with her readied bow before the stranger drew much closer. She called out. "Who are you?"

The Nord man slowed a little and called out a response. "Keld. I deliver supplies to High Hrothgrar… I have a message for the grandson of Erik."

Alex called out. "What is it?"

Keld had stopped. "I don't know. I have a note in my pack… it just says 'Grandson of Erik' on the outside."

Alex relieved the tension upon his bow. "I am the grandson of Erik… but… but how could anyone know…?"

"Dunno." Keld responded. "I just make the deliveries."

Monika also relieved the tension upon her bow. She made a gesture that indicated her intention to stand down, but she didn't put the bow away. Keld continued forward to their position.

Once Keld was just a few paces away, Monika spoke again. "Where is this note?"

Keld looked up earnestly. "In the backpack." He started to lower his burden down to the ground.

Alex spoke. "Did the monks up there give you this message? Did they say why?"

Keld had lowered the sack from his shoulder and was struggling with the larger pack upon his back. "Oh, no. I've never spoken with 'em." He dropped the pack to the ground. "Saw one once. Old fella with a big beard." Keld paused as he rummaged in the pack. "They just leave notes saying what they want me to do. This time, there's two notes. One of 'em says 'Grandson of Erik'. I just figured…"

Alex spoke again. "So, you do not speak with them at all?"

"No… never have. Don't think they talk." Keld was still looking into the pack. "Ah. Found it."

Keld produced the folded parchment and handed it to Alex. Monika had glanced at it briefly, but kept a vaguely wary eye upon Keld.

"It says 'Grandson of Erik'" Alex confirmed, still some surprise in his voice.

"You gonna read it?" Keld seemed curious.

Alex unfolded the parchment and read the note to himself.

"What do they want?" Keld spoke again. "They givin' you my job?"

Alex was still looking at the note. "No, uh…" He paused, then shrugged. He decided to read it out aloud. "You are not summoned to High Hrothgar. You have been poisoned by elven magicks. We will not receive you. Turn back. You are not welcome."

No one else had spoken. Alex looked up and then glanced to Monika. "What do you think?"

Monika chewed upon her lower a lip a moment. "Seems pretty clear."

Alex and Monika both looked to Keld. He shrugged. "If they don't wanna see you, then they don't wanna see you. They don't even let me inside. I gotta camp outside with a fire… and I gotta bring my own firewood."

Alex looked at the note again. "I wonder how they knew…"

"Don't know." Monika stared at the ground in thought.

"It does tell us something." Alex offered. It confirmed what they already suspected.

"Um, yeah. I suppose." Monika conceded.

"So…?" Alex prompted.

"Not much choice." Monika settled. She glanced back in the direction they had come.

Keld interrupted. "Can we go now? I spent most of yesterday huddled up against he stone walls outside the monastery. I really wanna get back to some place warm."

"Yeah." Monika agreed. "We might as well head back down."

Alex helped Keld to load up with his burden. Then they all headed back down the mountain path toward Ivarstead. It would probably be near to dark by the time that they arrived.

* * *

Malcolm Forester had just left the Fighter's Guild in Chorrol. He was disappointed to learn that Northwind and Pinewatch had disappeared off to the north somewhere. Not that it really mattered so much. He was just hoping that he might have caught up with them while he was in town.

Forester had been considering that he might remain in Chorrol for just a few days, when he noted that he was hungry. The midday crowds milling about the central plaza of the main street had something to do with it. Many of them were eating after having made purchases from the outdoor stalls that lined that space.

Forester had only briefly considered heading over toward one of the stalls. It all seemed far too crowded. Instead, he looked toward the Arborwatch Tavern over on the right hand side of the street. He would still need to negotiate the crowd, but he expected it to be far less bustling inside that particular tavern.

After struggling past the throng, Forester entered the Arborwatch Tavern. There were still quite a few patrons inside, but it was nothing like the mass of people outside.

The Arborwatch Tavern held two particular distinctions of note. For one, that building had once belonged to the famed Champion of Cyrodiil. That was nearly fifty years before. The second thing being that the tavern held the distinction of being the second most expensive place in Chorrol. That was largely due to the first point of interest.

Forester moved through the small front area to the service bar. He had noted a couple of older Imperial men sitting at a small table set toward the back on the left side of the first area. It was near the door to the basement level. He had noted them for two reasons. Firstly, they had given him a lengthy glance of only vaguely subdued disdain. Secondly, their manner of dress seemed designed to imply a status of wealth. Forester had taken that as an indication that they were probably not quite as wealthy as they were trying to suggest.

Immediately ahead, there was a split staircase that led to the upstairs rooms. Some rooms to the right and a large suite upon the left. The service bar was located just to right of the stairway.

Behind the bar, a pretty young Breton woman offered a friendly smile at his approach. Forester had ordered some food and drink. Most of the tables over the right hand side of the tavern seemed occupied. He didn't really feel like sharing a table with a stranger, so he decided to remain at the bar.

Forester had eaten about half of his meal when he was unexpectedly disturbed. A heavy hand had settled upon his shoulder. It was accompanied by a booming voice.

"Forester." The voice roared in his ears.

Forester had turned sharply. The loud voice had belonged to Frederick, or Frederick the Loud, as he was more suitably known.

"Frederick." Forester spoke more quietly. "It is good to see you, old friend."

"It's better to hear me before you see me. If you don't hear me coming, then you know to expect trouble." Frederick laughed loudly at his own comments. He placed his empty tankard upon the bar and looked to the young Breton woman. "Another tankard of your finest ale, my dear." The barkeeper nodded silently and attended to the task.

Frederick was a big Nord. He was not just tall. He was big all over. His light brown mane fell down past his shoulders in a mess of loose curls. His unkempt beard burst forth from his huge jaw and mixed with the mess of his hair. The only other distraction from his large nose and bushy eyebrows were his bright green eyes. He was probably near to Forester's age, but he had never spoken of it.

Frederick had taken possession of his freshly filled tankard. "So, what brings you Chorrol, my friend."

Forester finished chewing his food before he answered. "Well, I dispatched a roadside bandit not far from here, before visiting the Chorrol Guildhall."

"Good work, my friend." Frederick bellowed. "Someone's got to do it." Another belly laugh escaped from Frederick.

"And yourself, what brings you to Chorrol?" Forester prompted. Frederick generally operated out of the Bruma Fighter's Guild.

"Yeah, I'm actually headed over to Anvil." Frederick offered.

Forester glanced at Frederick. He wondered if he intended to say more.

Frederick leaned in closer. He spoke more quietly. It made Forester a little nervous whenever Frederick spoke quietly. "Word is… there's been some sorta Daedric artefact on the move. I heard it might be over in Anvil. I'm going to check it out."

Forester raised his eyebrows. "Do you know what it is?"

Frederick paused. "Nah, dunno. Makes it hard."

"Is it a Guild contract?" Forester inquired.

"Yeah, but nobody knows what it is." Frederick paused again. "The Synod requested the contract, but they've been bloody useless at saying what it is." He turned sharply to look to Forester. "Hey, you want to tag along?"

Forester shook his head. "The Synod and I… don't get along."

"Divines. That's crap." Frederick bellowed. "That's gotta be ancient history by now and their gold is as good as anyone's."

Forester didn't shift his stance. "No, I think I shall just leave this one in your capable hands."

"Suit yourself." Frederick took a long guzzle from his tankard.

Forester tried to finish his meal.

"Hey." Frederick slammed his tankard down upon the bar, startling Forester, and possibly a few others. "Guess who I just saw in Bruma."

Forester shook his head and waited for him to continue.

"Alaron Suvaris" Frederick revealed.

"Truly?" Forester commented. "And what has our Dunmer friend been doing?"

Frederick stifled a guffaw. "You're not gonna believe this." He paused a moment. "He says he's been helping out those Stendarr cultists."

Forester had raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

Frederick was still grinning. "Yeah. Apparently, the Fighter's Guild in Cheydinhal and those Stendarr cultists that have been getting all friendly lately. Been teaming up to take down vampires and such."

Forester had not heard about that particular development. "Remarkable. Is this… is this something new?"

"First I heard of it." Frederick offered.

Forester was still thinking about those Stendarr warrior cultists. From what he understood, they called themselves Vigilants of Stendarr. Stendarr was the Divine god of mercy and justice. Those Vigilants had been trying to establish themselves as some sort of holy warriors dedicated to eliminating Daedra, vampires and the like. Forester had a brief run-in with a couple of outside of Kvatch the previous year. They had accused him of using dark magicks, but he had convinced them to back off. That was about the full extent of his experience with those Vigilants of Stendarr.

"Where is Suvaris now?" Forester asked Frederick.

"After Bruma?" Frederick started. "He said he was headed back to Cheydinhal for a bit, then after that, he's got business in the Imperial City."

"Have you had any dealings with those Stendarr followers?"

"Nah." Frederick shook his head. "Heard of 'em, but never met any… that I know of."

Forester and Frederick talked for a while longer before Frederick departed. He was headed back to the Guildhall. He intended to try for an early evening, then rise before the dawn to continue his journey toward the western port city of Anvil, located upon the Gold Coast in the south-western corner of Cyrodiil.

Forester had pondered his immediate options. He had considered staying at the Arborwatch Tavern overnight. After speaking with the pretty young Breton behind the bar, he had learned that her name was Estelle. Answering his inquiry, she had informed him that one of the single rooms upstairs was still available. Even though it was notably overpriced for what it was, Forester decided to stay there for the night. He would go somewhere else if he decided to remain in Chorrol for a longer period.

* * *

Perhaps no more than an hour before dusk, Belwen had heard a caller arriving at the household of her Thalmor master. She only hesitated a moment over the cooking pot. If she took too long to attend the front entrance, she expected to receive some sort of punishment for her tardiness.

A tall Altmer soldier stood outside the entrance to the household. He looked to be carrying a large book. Like all the Alinor military in Arenthia, he wore the Thalmor styled elven armour. The soldier looked down at Belwen. It wasn't just matter of his height. The Altmer looked down upon her, regarding her as a nothing more than a female Bosmer servant. His expression reflected that he clearly considered her as his inferior.

"Armion." The soldier identified himself in an abrupt fashion. "Inform Captain Volundare that I am here."

Belwen lowered her gaze deferentially. "As you say. Right away." She moved away to find Volundare.

Belwen's height was actually about average for a Bosmer female. She was taller than most Bosmer men that strictly observed the Valenwood diet as required by their traditional culture. However, those taller Altmer made her feel much smaller. Since she had lived all her twenty-one years within the forest city, her complexion remained quite fair. She kept her long dark brown hair tied up in a bun. Her large brown eyes always looked a little sad. That perpetually sombre expression was just beginning to undermine her pretty features.

Belwen had thought that Volundare was in the smaller room that he had set up as his study. However, she found that room empty. She quickly checked the other rooms of the household. She dared not call out. It would only attract his anger.

She had finally concluded that he was in the bathroom. Belwen had cautiously knocked upon the entrance to the bathroom.

"What is it?" The male Altmer had called out with some measure of annoyance.

Belwen responded meekly. "There is a soldier here to see you. He says his name is Armion."

After a pause, Volundare responded. "I'm busy. Just find out what he wants."

Belwen returned directly to the front entrance of the household. The soldier was still standing exactly as he had been when she left him. She spoke with some hesitation. "Volundare says that he is busy. He instructed me to find out what you want."

Armion bristled with a measure of irritation. His expression reinforced his disdain at having to speak with the Bosmer. "I have a package for Captain Volundare." He produced the item that Belwen had thought was a large book. "Do not touch it, except to place it in the Captain's hands. Do not open it."

"I understand." Belwen responded in a subservient manner.

Armion placed the package in her hands and turned to leave. Belwen hurried back inside. She took the package with her as she rushed back to the kitchen to check the cooking food that she had left behind.

After a short while, Volundare had emerged from the bathroom and donned the expensive looking robe that he often wore about the household during the evenings. He was a typically tall Altmer. Like most High-Elves, there was a golden tone to the colour of his skin. His hair was a long white mane that hung about the back of his head, extending down to the top of his shoulders. His golden hued eyes loomed above his long and slender nose. A thin wispy moustache adorned his upper lip. It was the same stark white as the colour of his hair.

Volundare was the Captain of the Thalmor Guard that served the Governor of Arenthia. The military governor had been appointed nearly twenty years earlier as the local representative of the transitional government of Valenwood in the newly formed Aldmeri Dominion.

It might have been different in the former capital or other parts of Valenwood, but in Arenthia the local government consisted of nothing more than the Thalmor Governor and a few representatives of those Bosmer clans that had immediately capitulated to the occupying force.

Of course, those Bosmer representatives had no real say in what happened in Arenthia. Their only purpose was to keep the clans in line with respect to the new order.

Volundare had gone directly to his study. He had soon called out to Belwen to attend. She had quickly set aside what she was doing and arrived with the package that the soldier had delivered.

Captain Volundare had looked up without speaking. His expression indicated that he expected Belwen to speak.

Belwen held out the delivery and approached Volundare. "The soldier delivered this package for you."

Volundare looked at the package with some interest and took it from her. "You haven't opened it all?"

"No. I was told not to touch it, except to place it in your hands." Belwen lowered her eyes and backed away.

"Of course." Volundare continued to gaze upon the package.

Belwen waited quietly at the entrance.

"That is all. Leave me." Volundare waved her way.

"Your evening meal will be ready shortly." Belwen offered.

Volundare glared at her. "I said, that is all. I will call you when I am ready. Leave me girl. Leave now."

Belwen backed away from the study and returned to the kitchen. Just as she did almost every day, Belwen had wished that the Thalmor had never come to her land. She wished that her parents were still alive and that she had never been pressed into the service of the Altmer overlords. We wished that she could be almost anywhere else. There had to be something better.

~O~


	6. Chapter 6

Evening Star

Greg J Miller

~O~

Chapter 6

Tirdas the 10th of Frostfall 4E48

Malcolm Forester had slept a little later than he had intended. Actually, he had slept much later than he had intended. It was just coming up on eight in the morning. However, he had planned to rise before the dawn.

Since he had missed the early start, there was no point in hurrying. He would just adjust his plans accordingly. He attended to the immediate concerns of the morning, dressed in his mithril armour and gathered up his other equipment.

Forester turned and checked the room before departing. He stood idly rubbing his cheeks. He felt vaguely dissatisfied with the trimming of his goatee beard the previous day. The shaving of the exposed parts of his face did not quite measure up his liking. He decided to ignore it and turned to leave.

That first evening in Chorrol, Forester had stayed at the Arbor Watch Tavern. For the gold that he paid, the room at that tavern had been terribly disappointing. It was not so much an issue of the quality, as much as it was quite small. He had decided to relocate to the Oak and Crosier Inn for the evenings of Sundas and Morndas. Just as he had recalled, the rooms of that inn were far better for the price. In fact, even the single accommodations were far roomier and therefore of a better sense of quality, for no more than half the cost.

Of course, he could have stayed at the Fighter's Guild for no cost at all. However, he firmly disliked sharing his space with others unless absolutely necessary. He tended toward placing a higher value upon his privacy and personal comfort. He possessed enough gold to afford such simple indulgence.

Forester had left his upstairs room at the Oak and Crosier Inn and made his way down to the main tavern area. Given that the notion of an early start was now well behind him, he had decided to take a morning meal from the service bar.

The publican's wife, Lyra, was serving at the bar. At that time of the morning, there were not so many customers in the tavern. Forester did not have long to wait for the meal that she prepared.

Lyra seemed a typical working class Colovian Imperial woman for her age. She seemed about the same age as Forester, by his passing estimation. As he watched her preparing his meal, he could tell that she must dye her hair that darker colour. A few gray hued hairs had begun to assert themselves about the crown of her head. He just thinking that she would been quite a striking woman when she just a little younger. Working the inn had certainly seemed to help her keep her figure. Forester had idly decided that Lyra's features didn't really reflect her probable age. Maybe she was a little younger than he had initially thought.

It was then that Thomas had come along to the service area. Thomas was the publican, Lyra's husband. Forester had wondered whether Thomas had noticed that he had been watching his wife, rather than the food she was preparing.

Thomas seemed quite a large man. He was one of those big, dark and hairy Colovians. The kind of man that looked like he needed to shave twice a day to keep the stubble from his face. That was evident from the dark bristles currently darkening his features. There were just a few odd gray flecks here and there. Not as many as Forester sported in his own neatly cropped beard.

The burly Colovian barkeeper had nuzzled his wife as he took a quick look at what she was doing. Thomas turned about to face Forester. "You're Forester, aren't you? With the Fighter's Guild?" His expression was one of expectation.

Forester cleared his throat. "Well, yes. As a matter of fact…"

Thomas interrupted. "I was talking to someone in here, just last night. He said you know Northwind. Monika Northwind?"

"Well, yes." Forested confirmed.

Thomas continued. "Yeah, I was talking to Brian Cullian. He's with the Chorrol City Guard. You know him?"

Forester considered the question only briefly. "No, I don't think so. I certainly know Northwind… and Pinewatch."

"Oh, yeah. The younger Nord fella." Thomas grinned to himself. Lyra was still behind him, finishing up with Forester's order.

"So, you are also well acquainted?" Forester sought confirmation.

"Oh yeah. They were staying here up until the start of the month. Said they were headed up north into Skyrim for a few weeks."

"So I have heard." Forester commented.

Lyra interrupted the conversation as she brought over Forester's order.

"Better let you get into that, while it's still hot." Thomas suggested. "Next time I see them, I'll mention you were here."

"Very good." Forester agreed.

Thomas and Lyra left him to his meal and his silent musings. Forester had previously planned to head back to Skingrad after a short stay in Chorrol. However, he had changed his mind after speaking with Frederick the Loud.

Frederick would have headed off toward Anvil on Sundas morning. He was off on a wild goose chase for some Daedric artefact. He didn't even know what he was looking for. The task held little interest for Forester. Truthfully though, he might have considered joining him anyway, if it hadn't been a job for the Synod.

Forester's curiosity had been more piqued by what Frederick had said about Alaron Suvaris. It had been several months since he had last run into the Dunmer. Instead of heading back to Skingrad, he had decided to head to the Imperial City and see if he could catch him there.

Since the Skingrad Fighter's Guild activity had seemed rather slow recently, he had even considered taking a trip over to Cheydinhal if Suvaris had already left the city. It was no further from the Imperial City than Skingrad, except that it was in the opposite direction. Maybe the Fighters' Guild at Cheydinhal would have some work available.

After Forester had finished with his meal, he left the Oak and Crosier Inn and stepped out onto the streets of Chorrol. The activity upon the main streets seemed typically busy. All the stores were open by that time. He paused to consider whether he needed anything before leaving the city, but nothing came to mind.

As he headed toward the southern city gates, Forester observed a heated argument between the city guards and a pair of Khajiit. It sounded like it had something to do with trading licenses. He gave them a wide berth and tried to ignore the ruckus.

Forester didn't really have a problem with Khajiit in general, except for the ones that were thieves or bandits. He tried not to assume that all Khajiit were bad apples. He had met a lot of Khajiit traders that seemed to run honest businesses, at least as far as he could tell. It didn't seem that those particular Khajiit were going to have much luck with the guards. Either way, it was none of his business.

Forester had quietly slipped through the city gates and started his journey down The Black Road toward the city. If he had risen earlier, he might have tried to make it all the way to the Imperial City. It still would have been well into the evening by the time that he arrived.

However, since it was already far too late in the morning, there was no longer any hurry. He would just aim for the halfway point instead. Even at a casual pace, he would have no trouble at all reaching the Fort Ash settlement well before sunset.

The Fort Ash settlement was almost exactly halfway between Chorrol and Weye, near enough to halfway to the Imperial City. He expected that he should have no trouble finding accommodations in the tavern below the old fort. He would stay there the evening and then head on to the city the next day. He might even meet up with Alaron Suvaris if luck was with him.

* * *

Some time around mid-morning, Fadren Verelas had finally arrived at the gates of Windhelm. He had been travelling most of the night, only resting occasionally when it seemed safe enough to do so. In fact, he had been travelling upon foot for most of the past two days. It might have been far easier and a bit faster if he had been riding a horse, but horses were expensive. He could have even turned north toward the city of Winterhold. From there, he might have sought passage upon a wagon for a reasonable fee. However, Fadren had been in no great rush. From his broad interpretation of his instructions, he was required to remain in Skyrim for a period of ten days, but he wasn't instructed to remain at the mountain shrine. With that in mind, he had concluded that it would be acceptable to slowly make his way southward. If that were not case, he would surely have been told. Accordingly, Fadren had decided to head to Windhelm.

The entrance to the walled city of Windhelm was across the large stone bridge that crossed the White River from the south. That was something of an inconvenience, since Fadren had travelled from the north. It meant that the last part of the journey had been annoyingly indirect. The only other way into the city was from the docks upon the river. By design, there was no easy access to the docks from outside, except from the vessels at port.

At least the weather had been fairly kind. Fadren had not encountered any bad weather since the light sleet that had fallen near those mountains to the north.

Nearing the final leg of that particular journey, Fadren had trudged across the long bridge toward the main city gates. Typically, most Dunmer needed to produce their papers at the gates. However, Fadren was already known to one of the guards at the gate and was waved through with a nod.

Windhelm was supposed to be the oldest city in all of Skyrim. Fadren didn't doubt that. It certainly looked like it. Many of the stone buildings of the city looked to be hundreds of years old. Some were supposedly much older.

The Nords claim that Windhelm was the location of the first settlement of men when they first came to Tamriel from across the seas during ancient times. They say that the large stone castle that dominates the city, the Palace of the Kings, was the seat of power of their first Nordic ruler. Their almost mythical King Ysgramor was said to have claimed rule over all of the north. They say that his bloodline had continued that rule for hundreds of years. That was all a very long time ago.

Things were different now, with their nine Holds and nine Jarls. Sometimes the High King of Skyrim was in Windhelm, sometimes not. In any event, they were still ruled by the Emperor in Cyrodiil. Some of the previous Cyrodiilic Emperors had actually come from Skyrim, but not the current one.

It had been more than forty years since the first of the Dunmer refugees had come to Windhelm. Some had arrived by ship. Many had travelled overland through the Dunmeth Pass at the nearby eastern border with Morrowind.

The Jarl of Windhelm at that time could not have easily turned them all away from the land. Still, far too many had arrived in far too short a time. When the matter of Solstheim was resolved in favour of the displaced Dunmer, the service of several vessels had been commissioned to provide passage for refugees bound for the northern island. It had not really been such a great act of charity. It had really been more about just getting them out of Windhelm.

Only a lesser population of Dunmer had been accepted as permanent residents of Windhelm. The Dark-Elves had never really felt welcome amongst the Nords. At best, it seemed that were merely tolerated. The north-eastern section of the city had become the only place for the Dunmer within the walls of Windhelm. It had since become known as the Gray Quarter. It was the part of the city nearest to the docks. Aside from those few Dunmer lucky enough to find work in the main marketplace or those that actually had work in the Gray Quarter, most could only find employment at the docks. The East Empire Company located at the docks was always more than accommodating when it came to making use of cheap labour.

Fadren had made his way through the city to the Gray Quarter. Most of the streets of that section were no more than narrow passageways between the stone buildings. He headed down to the shabby tavern located in the furthest corner of that part of town. There were no rooms to be rented at the tavern, but as long as he bought something, he could sit quietly in a dark corner and rest his tired body.

A couple of other male Dunmer sat upon the wall just outside The New Gnisis Corner Club. Fadren had given them just a passing glance. He had seen the both of them before, but didn't actually know either one. He went directly inside the tavern.

The tavern was only poorly lit. That made it somewhat harder to notice just how shabby the place really was. Still, it was out of the cold.

Fadren released a short sigh before approaching the bar. The old Dunmer woman that owned the place was actually tending the customers. He preferred it when one of her sons was tending service. The Dunmer woman's name was Valynn Rendar. Fadren tried to just order his drink and move away as quickly as possible.

He was really not in the mood to hear some version of her story yet again. He had already heard it far too many times. He could recite the whole thing himself. Her parents had been in the township of Gnisis when Red Mountain exploded and scorched all of Vvardenfell. If she hadn't taken the job with some wealthy noble from House Telvani, she might have still been back at Gnisis when it was destroyed. That work had required her to supervise the shipment and delivery of expensive wines for her employer. She had been on a ship bound for Windhelm when the mountain had exploded. She had the shipment of wines in her possession, and as far she knew, her employer was no more. That was the main part of her story. She also used to go on about an egg mine at Gnisis. That part made no sense to Fadren and he didn't really care anyway.

Fadren sought out the dark corner, furthest from the service bar. He settled back into a chair and nursed his drink. Provided that there was no trouble in the tavern, he planned to just rest in the shadows for a while. With his dark hooded cloak and his dark beard, he became almost unnoticeable.

The Dunmer considered how he would pass the following days. He held only a few vague ideas in mind. Heading south toward Riften seemed the best course.

Fadren had never actually been much further south than Kynesgrove before. That was a mining village located just a few leagues south of Windhelm. There was a pleasant inn at that village. The publican of that inn was always perfectly happy see to Dunmer walking into the place with gold.

Since his time with Aras Fals, Fadren had managed to keep a better hold upon his gold. There was also the modest amount of gold that he received from Aras' passing. He believed that he held more than enough for the task ahead.

From what Fadren could recall from maps, he believed that following the White River upstream would lead to two or three small settlements before reaching the road that led to Riften. He also understood that a road ran from east to west across the south of Skyrim. At some place along that route, there was a passage that led southward through the mountains into Imperial Cyrodiil. He wasn't really certain of any of the details. For the most part, he would be just making it up as we went along. He trusted that circumstances would lead him where he needed to go.

At some point during his reflection, Fadren must have nodded off in the corner. He had awoken with a start. He shifted position and tried to just rest without actually sleeping. He thought about going to Kynesgrove tomorrow. After he was just little better rested.

* * *

A group of Imperial Soldiers trudged along the rough road north toward the hillside city of Riverhold in northern Elsweyr. They had just come directly from the trading settlement of King's Walk, located several leagues to the south. They had started out as twelve in number, but only ten had made the return journey. Two had fallen in a battle with a black minotaur on the open savanna to the east. One of those that died was Captain Pundus, the man in charge of the operation. After that unfortunate occurrence, it fell to senior Legion Trooper Atrius to take charge.

The role of the Imperial Legion in Elsweyr had remained rather tenuous over the decades since Titus Mede had become Emperor. Officially, Elsweyr had not been part of the Empire since before the assassination of Potentate High Chancellor Ocato. At best, it could be said that some parts of Elsweyr maintained a tentative alliance with the Empire. Some places more than others.

In fact, it remained difficult to really think of Elsweyr as a single unified land. The various city-states and regions each maintained independent rule. It had really been that way for most of the past fifty years. The only thing held the land together was the unofficial head-of-state known as the Mane. The Mane was said to be unique and held a position of honoured respect. Still, the Mane was more the cultural leader of the land than an actual ruler.

The physical appearance of all Khajiit was determined by the phases of the moons at the time of their birth. There was said to be more than twenty different variants of Khajiit. Only three or four kinds ever ventured outside of their own lands. The most commonly seen types of Khajiit appeared somewhat similar to the Suthay-raht with some variation. There were just two known kinds of Khajiit that more resembled man or mer. At least six of the types of Khajiit were actually quadrupedal and looked more like the wild cats of other lands.

It was said that there was only ever one Mane at any time. The Mane could only be born when both Masser and Secunda were in perfect alignment. Such occurrences were quite rare. Aside from the extraordinary large and distinctive mane, such a Khajiit usually looked rather similar to the bipedal Suthay-raht and Cathay that were most frequently seen throughout Cyrodiil and the other lands of Tamriel.

A relative state of peace throughout the independent regions of Elsweyr had only come about under the influence of the Mane. Nonetheless, that state of peace remained rather fragile. It was also the advice of the Mane that influenced some of the various regions of Elsweyr to maintain that tenuous alliance with the Cyrodiilic Empire. Even so, aside from the diplomat envoys to the cities of Dune in the west and Corinthe in the south, the only notable imperial presence was in Riverhold and Rimmen. It was no coincidence that those two city-states were the ones closest to the borders of Cyrodiil.

For the past three years, the Queen of Riverhold had permitted the presence of a garrison of Imperial Legion soldiers stationed just outside the city. The Imperial Legion were not allowed any permanent residence within the city and held no direct authority over the Khajiit citizens of Riverhold.

That circumstance had come about as part of the agreement reached with the current Empire of Titus Mede. The final part of those negotiations had actually been conducted at the palace in Riverhold. Crown Prince Attrebus had come to that northern city of Elsweyr with his people in tow to directly finalise the details of the agreement with Queen Naghea.

The current Queen of Riverhold was called Naghea, just as her mother had also been known as Naghea. It had become something of a matter of tradition calling back to older times, back to before Elsweyr had become part of the Cyrodiilic Empire. The previous Queen had taken that name at the time that Elsweyr had ceded from the Empire, shortly after the Oblivion Crisis. That previous Queen had been Suthay-raht, her daughter had been born as a Cathay with dark striped markings.

The agreement reached with Queen Naghea had remained only a tenuously political one. There was no possibility of the Province of Riverhold rejoining the Empire. However, she had agreed to a state of peacetime alliance. More of the details of the agreement pertained to matters of trade, most specifically the security of trade routes.

The Empire had agreed to maintain a garrison of soldiers just outside of the city. The primary duties of the Legion presence had involved providing patrols for the local roads of that province and the policing of the border crossing just to the north.

The main road that led north from Riverhold was the primary trade route between Elsweyr and Cyrodiil. After the stone bridge across the gully at the border, that road continued north-east through The West Weald of Cyrodiil. It eventually led through the small village of Faregyl to The Green Road near the village of Ione. Most trade continued northward to the Imperial City.

During the year that followed, a similar agreement had been negotiated between the Empire and the city-state of Rimmen in the east of Elsweyr. In that case, the trade route travelled east from Rimmen, passing the Khajiit populated village of Border Watch and leading to the port township of Water's Edge upon the shores of The Lower Niben.

Captain Pundus had been tasked with investigating security issues with the internal trade route between Riverhold and Rimmen. Even during the time that Elsweyr had been a part of the Empire, that route had been hazardous for Imperials and Khajiit alike. As it was, the road itself had just about disappeared from view in some places from disuse. Added to that, the wild creatures of the Saimisal savanna and steppes posed a distinct threat to any traveller.

Nearer to Rimmen, there was still the long-standing problem of the roaming bandits that roamed the wild hills of that region. However, that was not Captain Pundus' immediate concern. His task was to seek secure passage for trade caravans to travel through the region claimed by the tribal township of Meir Lynmount.

Meir Lynmount was located nearly halfway along the neglected path between Riverhold and Rimmen. The township was ruled by a matriarchal tribal chieftain. Of course, Captain Pundus had only been able to speak with her through the Khajiit guide that he had brought with him; a young male Suthay named Ras'Dar. The elderly matriarch had only identified herself as Clan Mother. She was one of the Ohmes Khajiit. Aside from the light peach fuzz upon her sagging cheeks, her kind looked more like a Bosmer in general appearance. That was the reason that most Ohmes tattooed their faces with markings that more reflected that of other types of Khajiit.

The Clan Mother of Meir Lynmount had no particular interest in what any Cyrodiilic Imperials might want. However, she did hold some respect for the matriarch of Riverhold. She was not about to permit any stationed Legion presence in her region. Nonetheless, she did agree to instruct her people to allow the safe passage of trading caravans travelling to and from Riverhold. At least in that respect, Captain Pundus had been successful in his primary task.

On their way back from Meir Lynmount, the Legion soldiers had been attacked just two leagues short of King's Walk, about halfway back to Riverhold. One of those black minotaurs native to Elsweyr had emerged from a gully along the northern steppes above the road. It had taken all of the Legion soldiers working together to bring down the attacking creature. However, Captain Pundus and another soldier had not survived the encounter.

Legion Trooper Atrius had then taken charge. The bodies of their comrades had been loaded onto the backs of the only two horses that they had brought along and they continued onward to King's Walk.

King's Walk was a trading settlement located about six leagues south of Riverhold along the main road. The southbound trade route led to the city of Orcrest, then eventually to Corinthe and places further south. The King's Rest trading operations were jointly operated by two families. One family headed by an old Breton man. The other family was headed by an elderly Ohmes-raht female. They used both horses and female elephants for their trade caravans. Of course, the elephants were more suitable for the southbound caravans and the horses more useful for northbound trade.

The Legion soldiers had stayed at King's Walk the previous evening, before setting off earlier that morning back toward Riverhold. Obviously, the journey could have been made in six hours or less upon horseback. However, it had taken somewhat longer marching on foot.

The road from King's Walk to Riverhold ran alongside the plains of Anequina. The open savanna spread out to the west of the road. The hills of the Saimisal steppes rose up along the eastern side.

It was some time around mid-afternoon that they finally arrived at the barracks just outside of the city of Riverhold. All of the soldiers were quite weary from the long march. Atrius was perhaps more weary than the others. His first task would be to report to the commander of the garrison and advise him of the loss of Captain Pundus. At least, he could also report that the negotiations with the ruler of Meir Lynmount had been relatively successful.

Ras'Dar, the Khajiit guide had only been interested in one thing. He had stuck with Atrius just long enough to acquire his payment for his services. Once his pockets were filled, Ras'Dar left the Imperial barracks behind and headed for the city.

Ras'Dar was one of the Suthay Khajiit. In general appearance, the Suthay looked much like the Suthay-raht, only somewhat smaller. They were generally shorter than most men and mer, though slightly taller than the average male Bosmer of Valenwood. In that respect, he seemed a fairly typical Suthay. Although he was short, Ras'Dar carried a muscular frame. His body was covered with a lighter sandy coloured fur. Upon his head, he wore his golden mane in shorter braids. Aside from his dark green Khajiit eyes, his other most distinctive feature was his unusually short snout. It was short enough that he stood out among other similar Khajiit.

Ras'Dar had been born twenty-two years earlier in the western city of Dune. He had been the youngest of twelve brothers. His eleven brothers had been a significant part of his dissatisfaction with his life in Dune. He also disliked the arid climate of that location. The great dust storms that swept up from the desert plains were the worst. During the most severe of those dust storms, it was often impossible to see halfway across the city. The sand seemed to get into everything.

The highlight of his young life had occurred when he was about thirteen. Ras'Dar had actually seen the Mane during one of his rare public appearances. The Mane had resided within Dune for all of Ras'Dar's life, but he was almost never seen by anyone except the few that attended him.

Throughout his childhood, Ras'Dar had heard the stories of the eastern provinces and other lands. Places that rarely saw the dust storms of the desert. He had heard of the open grassland plains where the striped horse-like creatures roamed and of the northern forests of green woodland. It all sounded far more appealing than the desert.

At the age of sixteen, Ras'Dar had packed a bag and a hunting bow and ran away from home to find those eastern lands. Although he was quite young, he wasn't completely foolish. He didn't try to make that journey on his own. Ras'Dar had waited until there was a trade caravan headed eastward and he followed alongside.

That trade caravan had not led him directly to where he hoped to go. The first part of the journey had followed the mountain ranges above the desert eventually arriving at Orcrest. It was no less arid along that path than the desert about Dune.

A number of Khajiit lived in the city of Orcrest, but as the name indicated, the greater portion of the populace were huge Orsimer. Ras'Dar had not found that place any more appealing than Dune. Outside of the oasis at Orcrest, there was just more desert in each direction.

Afterward, Ras'Dar had travelled northward from Orcrest and he eventually saw those open grasslands for the very first time. When he had finally laid eyes upon the green woodlands about Riverhold for the first time, he had been truly amazed. He held no idea what the future might have in store, but he felt that he had found the place that he wanted to be.

At first, the only work that Ras'Dar could find was by tagging along with the local hunters. It seemed a lot of work for what meagre gold that it returned. Nevertheless, he had become handy enough with his hunting bow and he made enough to get by.

However, once the Imperial Legion had come along with their garrison full of soldiers, fresh opportunity had presented itself. The Legion was quite generous with its gold and the soldiers often needed local Khajiit to serve as scouts and translators upon the roads. It wasn't every week that he could take work with the Legion, but it certainly paid well enough, and he eagerly jumped to seize the opportunity whenever it arose.

There were some Khajiit that resented the Imperial Legion soldiers outside of Riverhold. Most notably, the city guards of Riverhold. Even some of the traders of the city that happily took gold from the soldiers, didn't really like them. Ras'Dar didn't feel that way. He liked the Legion and he liked their gold.

With a full coinpurse in hand, Ras'Dar would not be camping outside the city that night. He planned to visit the River Spray tavern. He even considered paying to stay at the tavern rather than the more ordinary Hillside Boarding Den. All in all, it had been a good day as far as Ras'Dar was concerned.

~O~


	7. Chapter 7

Evening Star

Greg J Miller

~O~

Chapter 7

Tirdas the 10th of Frostfall 4E48

Perhaps only two hours before dark, Alex and Monika had finally approached the area outside the eastern gates to the city of Bruma. They were both tired and hungry, and a bit sore after the long trek down from the mountains. At least it seemed just a bit warmer. There was still a moderate layer of compacted snow upon the ground outside the city. After all, Bruma was in the upper highlands of Cyrodiil. It was easily the coldest city in all of Cyrodiil, but it seemed far warmer than where they had just come from.

Monika had been to Bruma a number of times over the past few years. She was quite familiar with the city, but Alex had never actually been there before.

Alex had been looking down toward the city walls for the past few hours as they made their way along the last stretch of road coming down from the pass through the Jerall Mountains. The more that he looked at those walls, the more that he thought that the city looked just like Chorrol from the outside. The huge stone walls looked to be about the same height as those of Chorrol. He could also see the towers of a castle that seemed to look rather similar to that of Countess Alessia's castle back in Chorrol. After he had given voice to those thoughts, Monika had assured Alex that Bruma was nothing like Chorrol inside the city walls. In fact, she had told him that it was really more like Falkreath. Only Bruma was much larger with a great many more people, and of course, it was also surrounded by those tall stone walls.

* * *

Monika and Alex had been on the move for most of the past two days. After coming back down the mountain with Keld, they had returned to that inn at Ivarstead to spend another night. The next morning, they had risen well before the dawn and then started off back toward Helgen.

Most of the journey from Ivarstead had passed without major incident. At one point, only a few leagues from Ivarstead, they had thought that they were going to have to fight off a huge bear. The bear had brought down an elk and was feeding off the carcass. It had been not so far off the main road, but far enough that they would not pass all that close. The bear had noticed Alex and Monika, but had not actually threatened to pursue. It had remained far more interested in the dead elk.

Much further along, they had heard wolves somewhere in the vicinity of the road, but did not actually see them. Given the way that howling wolves varied their tones to sound like more than their actual number, it was difficult to determine how many that there might have been. Monika and Alex had prepared themselves accordingly, but no attack had come.

It was not until just before dusk that Alex and Monika had actually encountered trouble. By that time, it was not all that far to Helgen, perhaps no more than two leagues.

Monika had smelled the smoke first. They had passed along that same road only five days before. They were both quite certain that there were no farms or other such settlements that far out from Helgen. Of course, a number of things were possible, but Alex had already mentioned that bandits tended to operate at about that kind of distance from the towns of Skyrim. Accordingly, they had treated that as a reasonable expectation.

Alex and Monika had prepared their bows. Leaving the road, they moved quietly toward the source of the smoke. They slowly moved up a slope above the northern side of the road. Just below a rocky outcrop and amongst some trees, they spotted a small campfire. Alex and Monika had peered out from behind some bushes and looked down upon a small camp.

Two Nordic looking men were by the campfire. One was busy feeding wood to the flames. The second sat upon a log sharpening his blade. It was difficult to tell exactly who they might be. The man at the fire was wearing rough leather armour. The other man wore a heavy woollen cloak. He might have also been armoured, but it was not immediately obvious. Bows and quivers sat upon the ground near the cloaked man sitting on a log. There were three packs on the ground next to a tree. That seemed to indicate the possibility of another person.

Alex had been considering that they might be hunters. He could not rationalise that travellers would stop there with Helgen just a short distance ahead. Either way, he had not voiced any of his thoughts.

Monika remained just as silent. She had considered several likelihoods and appropriate courses of action. Mostly, she was just waiting to confirm her firmest suspicion.

A third Nord man returned from the general direction of the road. He was outfitted in some sort of fur armour and carrying a bow, but didn't seem ready for trouble. That third man had spoken up as he approached the others. His voice was loud enough to make out some of what he said. He told the others something about the road being pretty quiet. He also said something else. The only words clear enough to be heard were, "Not getting anyone tonight."

It seemed a confirmation that they probably were bandits. Monika had considered just quietly slipping away and sneaking past along the road. Alex had felt a little less settled about allowing roadside bandits to go about their business. However, once Monika had silently signalled her intent to withdraw, Alex had nodded his acceptance and started to edge backward.

After just a few steps, Alex had cringed inwardly as he heard a twig snap beneath his boot. Monika had stopped in place with her bow drawn and ready, still watching the camp intently. Alex's accidental noise had not gone unnoticed.

An angry shout rang out from the bandit camp. The bandit in the fur armour had directed the attention of the others as he tried to ready his bow for attack. The other two had looked straight toward Alex and Monika as they went for their own weapons.

Monika had released a sigh, but had not waited for further prompting. She released an arrow toward the bandit with the fur armour and then immediately reached for a second arrow. Between Monika's first two shots, Alex had released an arrow aimed at the cloaked bandit as he was still trying to ready his bow.

A measured of fortune still favoured Monika and Alex. They held the higher ground above the camp. They were also far more prepared for the probability of a firefight than the bandits had been.

Over the next few excitable moments, a steady rain of arrows had sailed back and forth. Although several of Monika's arrows had failed to strike her intended target, she had managed to finish the bandit with the fur armour. He had fallen with three strikes to his chest. Only the last one had actually been immediately fatal.

Alex had also placed several arrows into the bandit with the cloak. The first appeared to have struck the bandit in the shoulder, or at the least, gone into the leather armour that he wore beneath it. Another arrow had buried deeply in his thigh. It was the third actual strike that finished him. Alex had managed a lucky shot that slipped past the bandit's bow arm and struck him in the throat. The bandit fell to the ground choking upon his own blood.

Monika had not been struck by any of the bandits' arrows, though one did sail through her hair. It would have stuck into her hood, if it had still been over her head. Her fortune had been more influenced by her well-executed offence, than any defensive activity. The advantage of the better position upon the higher ground also played a part.

Alex had not taken any serious wounds, but he did not remain unscathed. One arrow had grazed the back of his hand, leaving a slice in his glove. Another had glanced off the leather kneepad of his forward leg. The armour had been thick enough that the arrowhead had not actually broken the skin. Still, his knee had taken the impact and it felt just as bad as a more serious strike.

The more immediate concern was the third bandit. During the volley of arrows, they had lost sight of the last one. Monika had thought that the bandit had been struck during the firefight, but she wasn't certain.

After a few lengthy moments, Monika and Alex were forced to accept that the bandit had escaped into the woods during the brief battle. They firstly tended to Alex's minor wounds with healing potions and spells. Then they checked the camp and retrieved some of their spent arrows. The bandits' equipment hadn't been worth the trouble of going through it. Neither of the two dead had any kind of papers on them. That was further confirmation that they had probably been outlaws. They pocketed the forty-odd gold pieces that they found and threw everything else onto the campfire. At least that last bandit would find nothing useful if he returned.

The sun had just disappeared over the horizon and it was starting to grow dark. Alex and Monika headed back to the road and then continued onward to Helgen.

* * *

It was still reasonably early in the evening as Monika and Alex arrived at the gates of Helgen. Monika had made a point of informing the town guards of the bandits that they had encountered just a few leagues out along the road. The guards didn't seem at all surprised.

Alex and Monika made their way to Helgen's only inn. They had ordered hot meals and secured lodgings to stay Sundas night. They had already discussed where they might go next, but had not actually settled until that evening. They could have returned to Chorrol via the same route that they had followed a few days earlier. However, Monika had suggested heading to Bruma instead. Although she had never travelled that path herself, she knew that the road south of Helgen led to the Pale Pass in the mountains above Bruma. Alex had been just a little concerned about taking that pass through the mountains. He had heard rumours that it was not the best route during the colder months. That was all that he knew about it. Still, he was actually quite interested in visiting Bruma. Before they had gone to sleep, they had settled upon taking the road directly south toward Bruma.

* * *

Early on Morndas morning, Monika and Alex had set off from Helgen. As planned, they had taken the south road. One of the town guards had warned them to be careful along the southern road. He had suggested that it would have been safer to wait for the next southbound wagon, since they didn't have horses. The guard had further warned them that it could be rather dangerous of foot with the wild animals in those mountains. He had also advised that he'd heard some of the road signs were down. He blamed bandits for that. He told them to make sure that they took the right-hand path at the first fork in the road, to ignore the second and to take the left at the third. That would take them to the gatehouse at the north of Pale Pass.

That southern road had followed a winding path as it led into the high country below the Jerall Mountains. They had soon realised that it was taking much longer than they had expected. By the time that midday had passed, they still hadn't reached the third split in the road.

Even though it had reached the warmest part of the day under relatively clear skies, it had been growing progressively cooler as they travelled further into the mountainous region. Nothing had fallen from the sky, but there was quite a lot of unmelted snow upon the ground. In some places, it became rather difficult to recognise the road.

Alex and Monika were just beginning to wonder if they had missed the turn off, when they came over a rise and finally saw the split in the road ahead. At that same time, they spotted a serious threat in their path. A huge sabre cat sat by the side of the road ahead of them. It was feasting upon the carcass of someone it had killed. The sabre cat was as large as a bear. Its fur was mostly the colour of the snow, except for several dark brown patches.

The huge cat had taken note of Alex and Monika at the about the same time that they had seen it. They had both pushed their shields up their arms and had drawn their bows in near record time. It was perfectly obvious that the animal was not about to ignore them. Just as the cat rose to its feet preparing to lunge forward, the arrows began to fly. Just as many arrows missed the target as those that had struck home. The sabre cat had at least eight arrows in it, but it showed no sign of slowing down. None of the strikes had proved immediately fatal.

Once it became clear that the sabre cat was not going down before it reach them, Monika had dropped her bow. She had pulled her shield down into position and had drawn her light mace. After firing off one last frantic shot, Alex had followed Monika's actions with his own weapons.

It seemed that the wounded sabre cat had been running on inertia. Just as it came into melee range, Monika had thrust her shield at the cat's face as she slammed her mace across the back of its head. At the very same time, Alex had pressed forward with his own shield and sliced his sword up below the cat's foreleg. Before Monika had brought down her mace a second time, the sabre cat was already slumping down to the ground. Alex had followed Monika's second blow, driving his blade into the side of cat's huge throat.

Both Monika and Alex were just a little surprised that it had been over so quickly. The arrow strikes had apparently been more effective than they had seemed. It just took some time to produce the intended result. That was just as well, an animal like that could have killed either one of them quite easily if things had not gone so well.

Fully certain that the sabre cat was dead, they retrieved some of their spent arrows and checked the body of its earlier victim. The dead man looked like he had been Nord. He didn't have papers to indicate who he had been. None they could find anyway. He could have been a bandit. He did appear to look like the type, but there was no way to know for certain.

There was nothing to be done in the circumstance. If he actually had been a bandit, then he didn't deserve any consideration. In any event, they weren't equipped to deal with the body. They just left things alone and continued onward.

* * *

Monika and Alex had taken the left-hand turn in the road. After a few more twists and turns in the road, the path began a steady climb up toward the snow-covered mountains. The mountain breeze remained quite light, but the higher they ascended, the colder that it began to feel. Keeping up a brisk pace helped maintain some sense of warmth.

At those higher altitudes, the tree cover soon became far more sparse and the landscape far more open. One positive effect of that was a clear view over a good distance. It also seemed that fewer animals roamed that far up the mountain. That meant a lesser likelihood of dangerous predators and the like. Still, nothing could be taken for granted.

As they followed the road up the mountainside, the light breeze had whipped up loose snow from the ground, reducing overall visibility. Eventually, Alex and Monika reached a point where they could see the structure of the gatehouse in the distance. It was situated between two rocky outcrops at the top of a rise. It was still difficult to make out at first, but it looked something like the border crossing south-west of Falkreath. It took the better part of an hour to reach that structure of the border gates from when they had firstly spotted it.

Long before they actually reached it, the nature of the gatehouse became far more clear. A heavy wooden gateway blocked the road at the narrow passage between the rocky outcrops. The gates were framed by a stone wall with a covered walkway across the top. It differed from the one near Falkreath in two ways. For one, the gates remained closed at the border crossing. It also seemed that the Pale Pass border crossing was actually manned. They had spotted at least two shadowed figures moving across the covered area atop the wall.

It was perhaps only two hours short of dusk as Alex and Monika finally arrived at the border gates to Pale Pass. Two Imperial Legion soldiers stood above the gates. One was an older Imperial man. The other was a younger man. The older soldier had come down as Monika and Alex came up the last stretch of road to the gates. The soldier hadn't seemed terribly enthusiastic. Being stationed at the Pale Pass border was probably one of the less popular assignments.

At Monika and Alex's approach, the soldier seemed more weary than particularly interested in his task. He just wanted to know who they were and where they were headed. Or more the case, it was what he was required to do. He didn't really seem to care that much.

The Legion soldier's mood had lightened a little as he checked their papers and learned that they were Fighter's Guild members on their way to Bruma. He suddenly became far more talkative. He wanted to know about the road north to Helgen. Monika had told him about the dead man they had found down by the last split in the road. He didn't seem too surprised or all that concerned, only commenting that he would report it.

The soldier went on to warn them about frost trolls that had been seen on the southern side of the pass recently. He suggested that it would be bad idea to take the pass at night.

The second soldier had shouted down from above. "You're both Fighters' Guild?" He had been listening from his position upon the covered walkway.

"That's right." Monika responded.

The soldier above continued. "Unless you're in a hurry, I'd probably just camp here for the night. It's got to be safer than watching out for trolls in the dark."

Alex spoke up. "Are we permitted to camp here?"

"Yeah, why not?" The soldier above replied. "Especially if you're Fighter's Guild. You could probably stay up here, instead of camping by the gate."

The soldier down on the ground weighed in. "Yeah. It should be fine. Since you're with the Guild."

"Yeah. Alright, then." Monika agreed.

Alex and Monika followed the Legion soldier up the ladder to the top of the wall. Two braziers smouldered at either end of the stone platform. There was a sizeable pile of firewood stacked up against the rocks of the cliff face. There were also a few crates and barrels with supplies.

With the sun rapidly falling behind the light cloud cover above the western mountains, the temperature soon began to drop. The younger soldier had set about stoking the braziers with wood. Both of the soldiers became more talkative as they settled in atop the wall. The younger soldier had introduced himself as Julian. The older one was called Miles.

Julian had mentioned that they didn't see too many people come through the pass during the colder months. He had also said that they only see one or two trade wagons every couple of weeks.

Miles had added that they only needed to make the rations last to Fredas night. Their replacements would be arriving on Loredas, and then they would be headed back to Bruma. Miles had started to prepare a big pot of broth. He had advised Monika and Alex that there would be plenty for everyone.

As the older soldier worked upon making the broth, Julian had quizzed Alex and Monika at length about the Fighter's Guild. It seemed that the younger Legion soldier harboured a frustrated fascination for the Guild. It was not that long before even Alex had grown weary with Julian's endless questions.

Thankfully, Miles had eventually served up the broth. He made sure to get a large serving to Julian before anyone else. The broth was fair enough, but the brief silence seemed even better.

Afterwards, Miles had made Julian take the first watch of the evening before digging out a bedroll to settle down for a few hours of sleep. He set up just a safe distance from one of the burning braziers.

Alex and Monika also chose to turn in, settling down by the second brazier. They used Alex's lighter bedroll upon the stone. They wrapped themselves in Monika's blanket and both of their cloaks, huddling close together to maintain warmth. Even with the fire, the chill in the air remained aggressively persistent. Nonetheless, they were both tired enough to fall asleep almost immediately.

* * *

Once the mountain mists of Tirdas morning had cleared somewhat, Alex and Monika had left the Legion soldiers behind and resumed their journey. They remained mindful of the possibility of frost trolls as they descended through the southern side of the pass.

Less than two hours had gone by before they had cleared the main passage through the Jeralls and found themselves headed down the open mountainside. It was still fairly barren upon those upper slopes. The road remained difficult to see at times. The snowy vista was only broken by the rocky outcrops here and there. Much further down below, some sparsely populated woodland struggled to encroach upon the mountains. The sun beamed down from above the Valus Mountains to the east providing welcome warmth to the cold uplands.

Despite their concerns, they had not seen any sign of frost trolls. Aside from a hawk in the sky, they had not spotted any wildlife until they had almost reached the thin woodlands down below. Even then, it was just a couple of foxes dashing away from their approach.

The land levelled out to a slight depression in the highlands where the pine trees and lesser shrubs lined the road. Another trail split away from the main road headed off in an easterly direction. Monika wasn't certain, but she believed that it must have led to the north of Cheydinhal.

Monika and Alex had paused for a short rest about midday. They finished most of their dry rations and they were running low on water. It wouldn't be a problem, since they expected to reach Bruma in just a few hours.

They had followed the road as it rose up from the wooded depression in the highlands and the walls of Bruma soon came into view. It would still be a few hours before they reached them, but at least their destination was finally in sight.

* * *

The sun had already disappeared behind the tall stone walls of Bruma. It would be dark in less than two hours. That main road that ran from Bruma all the way down to The Red Ring Road was known as The Silver Road. The road approached the gates of Bruma from the eastern side. Upon the northern side of the gate area, there was a large stabling facility in the shadow of the stone walls. There were a few other large structures near the stables. They were something to do with the Imperial Trading Company, according to the signs. Over on the southern side of the road, it appeared somewhat similar to the area outside of the southern walls of Chorrol. There were two rows of smaller wooden houses alongside the tall walls. In answer to Alex's question, Monika had told him that some of the people that fled the Cheydinhal disaster still lived there.

Monika and Alex made their way through the gates and inside the walls of Bruma.

Just inside the gates, Alex spoke up. "You are right."

"Hmm?" Monika turned to Alex.

"It is nothing like Chorrol." Alex was looking about the city. Most of the structures in immediate view did seem to reflect the general style of those in Skyrim. The houses and buildings to either side of the entrance were that familiar heavy log over stone foundation construction. Unlike Chorrol, the streets were not fully paved, only lined with stones here and there. There were a few patches of unmelted snow in places.

A few steps ahead, Alex's attention was drawn directly to the large stone temple that dominated the centre of city. The building was of a similar style to the one in Chorrol.

"The Great Chapel of Talos." Monika mentioned.

"Okay." Alex looked away from the temple and glanced along the street to the left. A low row of Nordic styled houses trailed away as far as he could see, disappearing around a bend that followed the curve of the city walls. More houses of similar appearance lined the street upon his right. Alex noticed the symbols of the Fighter's Guild at the front of a larger structure about halfway down that street. "Should we report to the Guildhall?"

Monika glanced toward where Alex was looking. "No reason. Not tonight anyway. We should just find a place to stay."

Alex looked to Monika, then back to the Fighter's Guild.

"Not the Guildhall." Monika responded. "One of the taverns."

Alex had swung about to look back to his left. "There is a tavern right there."

Monika looked to the tavern just to their left. "No, not that place. It's terrible." She directed his attention further ahead. The open street ahead passed the temple and rose uphill toward a raised terraced area with several buildings. "There's a much better place up there."

Alex just nodded his acceptance and they both made their way up the hill toward the buildings ahead. They soon trudged up the stone steps to the terraced area. Nearing the top of those steps, Alex had noticed that there was another raised terrace up behind that one. Further back, he could see the towers of the castle rising up behind tall stone walls. Monika had gently steered Alex toward the large building immediate upon the left.

Even at first glance, Alex could see that the structure differed from the long-house taverns of Skyrim. The roof was much higher and it looked to have an upper level. A nicely painted sign hung by the front entrance, identifying the place as the Jerall View Inn.

Inside the inn, it was immediately much warmer than outside. Monika and Alex moved aside from the entrance. They paused to remove their heavy cloaks and gloves, stashing them into their packs. They then moved into the main tavern area of the inn.

Inside, the place seemed vaguely reminiscent of the Oak and Crosier Inn at Chorrol, only somewhat smaller. It was not overly opulent, but quite well kept. It was well lit with candles and lamps. A welcoming fireplace burned at one side of the tavern. There were a couple of large tables and several smaller ones. Also some seats along the walls where there were no tables.

It was not quite evening, yet there were already quite a few people in the tavern. Still, the space only felt just a little crowded. It was no where neared as bustling as the Oak and Crosier could become on some nights. There was just a single darker skinned Redguard man and a gray-skinned Dunmer woman in the tavern area. A few people looked like they were either Breton or Imperial, but most of the patrons appeared to be Nord. None of that was particularly unexpected. Bruma was known to have the highest concentration of Nords of any of the cities of Cyrodiil.

Alex and Monika made their way directly to the service bar. The first matter of business was securing lodging for the night. The woman at the bar was an elderly Nord with short gray hair, named Olava. Monika had met her before, but not recently. It had been more than a year since she had last been there.

Olava spoke up at their approach. "Welcome to the Jerall View. What'll it be?" Her manner seemed brusque, but not entirely unfriendly.

Monika responded. "First up, we're looking for a room."

Olava leaned upon the bar. "Well, then. I'll be letting you know that all the rooms are already taken but the best one upstairs. It's a good one, but it'll cost you."

Monika hesitated. Although the cost wouldn't be any kind of problem, she tried to give the impression that it was a concern. "Only the best one?"

"That's it." Olava confirmed. "Comes with a big bed and a tub, but it'll cost you forty-five."

"Forty-five." Monika repeated. "We were hoping to stay at least a couple of nights."

Olava shifted her eyes to the side momentarily. "If you're staying for two or more… I can do forty."

Monika paused just a moment. "Alright, then."

They paid for two nights' accommodation and then ordered food and drink. After just a short wait, Alex and Monika sat down to a hot meal. It might not have come even near to the best they had eaten before, but it certainly seemed good enough after their long journey.

Once they were done with their meals and drinks, they wasted no time heading up to their room. It was far from the extravagance of the suite that they had stayed in when they were guests at the White-Gold Tower in the Imperial City, but the room was at least of the same quality as the better rooms of the Oak and Crosier Inn at Chorrol.

A large double bed dominated one side of the room. There were drawers, wardrobes, a lockup chest, and a desk. A fireplace was set into the outside wall with a large water pot simmering above. A small partition stood in front of a modest sized tub in the corner nearest to the fireplace. There was even a reasonable sized water reservoir next to the tub.

After locking the door, Alex and Monika just dropped most of their equipment by the wall and they peeled off their boots and armour. Monika took to the bathtub as Alex laid out their armour and cloaks to air. As Alex took his turn in the tub, Monika had stashed away their valuables in the lockup chest. Alex didn't take long washing. By the time he had dried himself, they were both ready for sleep. Neither Monika nor Alex could be bothered with the rest of their equipment. It could wait until the morning.

Alex voiced a nagging thought just as he was climbing into bed. "It seems as though we have just travelled across half the land for nothing… well, almost nothing."

"Yeah." Monika glanced toward Alex, returning a grim smile before climbing under the covers. She rolled onto her side with her back to Alex. "My father used to say that sometimes the journey is more important than the destination. I think it's an old sailor's saying."

Alex snuggled up behind her. He draped his arm over her waist as he sought a comfortable position. "Grandfather Erik used to say something like that." He paused a moment to recall. "Grandfather used to say, it is not always about the journey as much as the people you meet along the way, and the company that you keep."

Monika shifted slightly and placed her hand over Alex's arm. "I think I like that one better." She smiled to herself.

After just a few moments, they had both fallen asleep.

~O~


	8. Chapter 8

Evening Star

Greg J Miller

~O~

Chapter 8

Middas the 11th of Frostfall 4E48

Malcolm Forester had awoken early that day at the Fort Ash Tavern. It was a stark contrast to the previous morning. It was barely dawn as he left his rented room behind. There was no one to be seen in the stone corridors or anywhere in the main tavern area. He dropped his key into the box upon the bar and made his way toward the exit.

The tavern and inn were located in the underground section of the old fort. For the longest of times, Fort Ash had been just another one of those old abandoned ruins from times long gone. At times, it had been occupied by outlaws of various persuasions. At one time, it had even been home to a tribe of goblins from the nearby forest.

More than three decades earlier, that fort had been one of many locations that Titus Mede had occupied during his struggle to reinstate a functional empire. However, once he had taken the Imperial City and become Emperor, there was no longer any need for such staging outposts. Since it was no longer needed, the old fort was again abandoned.

Since Titus Mede's soldiers had left it behind, it was not so long before bandits and gangs again took advantage of that circumstance. It was situated right on The Black Road at the top of a hill. A perfect location to ambush traders and travellers.

Clearing the old fort of outlaws had soon become a regular task. Eventually, at the behest of the Countess of Chorrol, Emperor Mede had established a small permanent garrison at the fort.

Only about twenty years earlier, permission had been granted to establish a small settlement at that location. It had actually come about from some of the Legion soldiers that wanted to build houses at that location for their families.

Since that time, the old underground area had been fully cleared out and refitted to serve as the tavern and inn. The tavern only occupied the first larger chamber. The rest of it had been outfitted with rooms of varied quality. The best ones had been located much further back where there was more space.

A wooden structure had been constructed up on the first level of the hollow stone framework of the fort's circular tower. That came to serve as the barracks for the remaining soldiers that served there. Typically, only four or five soldiers were stationed there.

The road still ran right through the middle of the old stone fort. Most of the settlement had been established about the southern side of the fort on the western side of the road. There were just a total of nine houses and a small crop farm in the settlement. There was also a small stabling facility by the side of the road.

Since the settlement was nicely situated halfway between Chorrol and the Imperial City, it was largely sustained by the passing trade.

Forester left the tavern area and proceeded along the stone lined passageway. It was only moderately lit by well-spaced lamp light. He almost missed the turn that led up to the surface. From there, the passage that led outside was a good forty paces long. Reaching the end, he pushed open the heavy wooden door, emerging into the early morning daylight.

It was immediately cooler outside in the shadow of the tower's stone walls. It had been much warmer down below. Since it was still quite early, there was almost nobody about yet. There was just the guard just near the south entrance. Forester had exchanged a brief greeting as he went by.

Outside the walls of the fort, Forester passed the unattended vendor stalls by the right hand side of the road. The stables and houses of the settlement were on his left. The sun was just beginning to twinkle through the trees of the forest.

Up ahead in the distance, Forester spotted a Legion patrol headed south along The Black Road. It was just two soldiers on horseback moving along at no faster than a slow walking pace. Even though he was on foot, in all likelihood he would catch up and pass them before too long. Provided that he maintained a good pace, he expected to reach the Imperial City well before the day was done.

* * *

Monika and Alex had slept soundly in the comfortable bed of their upstairs room at the Jerall View Inn. After the more ordinary accommodations of some of the places they had stayed in Skyrim, as well as the camping at Pale Pass, it seemed difficult to leave the comfort of the warm bed behind.

Alex had stirred first. He stumbled out of bed to find the chamber pot. As he paused to stretch, a bell could be heard ringing somewhere in the distance. It was only brief. He had guessed that it was coming from the temple, marking the hour of eight. The time that most places opened for business. It was the same in Chorrol.

Monika had also stirred in response to the dulled noise of the bell. She had then noticed that Alex had already risen. "Must be eight." Monika's voice was a little hoarse. With some reluctance, she tossed the covers aside. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and just sat there a moment.

Alex rubbed the bristles upon his cheek, considering that he needed a shave. He remained silent for a moment, waiting for some indication of Monika's mood. He had come to learn that she sometimes tended to be just a little irritable first thing in the morning.

"Where's the water?" Monika asked.

Alex collected the open flask of water that sat upon the drawers and brought it over to Monika. She accepted the flask and took a few lengthy sips before handing it back. Alex also took a few sips before putting the flask back in place.

After a short pause, Alex spoke up. "What should we do today?"

Monika looked toward Alex through the mess of her hair. "Yeah, there's probably a few things we need to do."

Alex waited for Monika.

After a pause, she continued. "We should drop in at the Fighter's Guild office here."

"Do you think that there might be work for us?" Alex maintained a casual tone.

"Maybe. We need get your leathers repaired."

"Okay" Alex remembered the damage to his kneepad and torn glove.

"We'll also need to restock supplies."

"We are out of dry rations." Alex offered.

"Yeah, and maybe some other things."

Alex silently considered what else they might need.

Monika finally stood up. "First things first. Let's get dressed and tidy up."

They proceeded to sort through their equipment and put it away in some semblance of tidiness. They dressed casually in the warmer trousers, shirts and vests that they had in the bottom of their packs. Since they wouldn't have needed them, they had left their lighter clothing in their lockup chests back at the Fighter's Guild in Chorrol.

Combs were run through their hair and boots were pulled on. Alex had neatly folded his leathers with his damaged glove to carry the bundle under his arm. They also made sure that they had their papers and coinpurses and then they were ready to head out.

After locking the door, Monika and Alex left the upstairs room behind, passed through the tavern of the inn and outside onto the streets of Bruma.

The air outside still held a slight chill. However, the morning sun felt warm and pleasant. There was no breeze to undermine that warmth. Just a few wispy clouds in the distance to the south were the only minor blemishes in the clear blue skies.

Looking down from the terrace where the Jerall View Inn was situated, several people could be seen moving about the streets of the city. A few people were coming out the temple. The main gates at the eastern wall seemed to be held open as a number of people were either coming in or going out. Although people were headed in various directions, the general tide seemed to be headed toward the northern end of town.

There were a few shops further along that terraced level where they had exited the inn, but Monika had directed Alex back down the stone steps toward the street where the Fighter's Guild was located. They turned north along that street and then soon climbed the stone steps outside the Guildhall. The familiar banners and signs appeared about the front of the structure with the Guild's symbol of shield over crossed swords. From the outside, the Bruma Guildhall appeared somewhat smaller than the one at Chorrol.

Stepping inside the Guildhall, Alex had noted that it actually must have been quite a smaller structure. Not far beyond the main entryway, a large sparring area occupying most of the left side of that level had also shared that space with the Guild's smith. Over the far right side, there was a large table with chairs, but it seemed smaller than the open area at the Chorrol Guildhall. There was only a partial upper level just above their heads. The rest of the space was open to the higher ceiling above. Alex had noticed the stairs just to his left and a doorway underneath that appeared to lead to a lower level.

A balding Breton man had just appeared from behind the wall to the right and directly approached Monika and Alex. He was dressed in polished steel armour. Unlike the young Guild Porter at Chorrol, the older man appeared more relaxed and casual.

A smile of recognition came over the Breton's face. "Northwind. It's been a while." He extended his arm in greeting.

Monika took the Porter's arm in greeting. "Edbert. How are you?"

"I'm well enough, for an old man." Edbert grinned broadly, accentuating the deepening lines upon his face. He looked to be in his late fifties. "And yourself?"

"I'm well." Monika responded.

Edbert looked past Monika toward Alex and extended his arm again. "And you, sir?"

Alex hesitated just a beat before taking Edbert's arm. "Alexander Pinewatch… I am just a first rank Fighter."

Edbert smiled. "So was our Guild Head… when he started. Guild Porter Edbert Greensmith, at your service." The Breton stated his full name and title. He looked back to Monika. "I expect that you're not just here to see me?"

"You know I only come here to see you." Monika grinned. "We have a couple of others things to do as well."

Edbert offered a silent look of expectation.

Monika continued. "We need to see Morn about fixing up some armour." She nodded in the direction of the Orc smith toward the back of Guildhall. "We should probably check in with your boss, as well."

"No problem." Edbert accepted. "If you'd like to go over and see Morn, I'll head upstairs and see if Guillard is taking visitors."

"Sounds good." Monika agreed.

As Edbert head off up the stairs, Monika and Alex made their way over to the smith at the back of the Guildhall.

Morn gra-Bumph was a weathered old Orsimer woman. Monika wasn't really sure just how old she was, but she certainly appeared quite old. However old that she might have been, Morn was by no means frail. She looked like she could probably take anyone that gave her any trouble. Despite her formidable appearance, she seemed quite friendly by Orsimer standards. As Monika understood it, Morn used to be a Guild Fighter when she was younger, just like her mother. That was before she took over full time smithing duties for the Guildhall.

Monika had renewed acquaintance with Morn and introduced Alex. She then organised for Alex's armour to be repaired. Morn had told them that she would look at it that day and that it should be done later.

Edbert had returned after a few moments and informed them the head of the Guildhall was free to see them. Alex and Monika headed on up the stairs to see Guillard in his office.

The door to the office was open. A lanky, broad shouldered Redguard man sat behind the wooden desk in the room. It was immediately apparent that his office also doubled as his private quarters. There was a bed and other furniture over one side of the room.

Guillard had put aside the papers he was looking at, but remained seated. He was one of those very dark skinned Redguards with a broad flat nose. Mild stubble further darkened his face. His hair was neatly cropped with tight dark curls that clung to his scalp. Guillard was probably slightly younger than Monika, but of course she appeared much younger than he did. It had only been about two years since he had become head of the Bruma Guildhall.

Guillard looked up at Monika and Alex. "Northwind and… Pinewatch, is it?"

Monika responded for both of them. "Yeah."

"Both from the Chorrol Guildhall?" Guillard prompted.

"That's right." Monika confirmed.

Guillard narrowed his eyes. He seemed to struggle to recall something. "You were here last year, weren't you?"

"That's right. I helped out with the rogue goblins down at Bleaker's Way."

Guillard nodded. "Yeah, I remember that." After a short pause. "So, what brings you to Bruma?"

"We're just passing through." Monika advised. "Just thought we'd drop in and let you know we're in town."

"Fair enough." Guillard accepted. "Everybody else is already out at the moment, but I haven't got any work I can offer you. Oh, hold on…" He shuffled his papers looking for something. "There is one thing. There's an open contract." He glanced at a document before continuing. "The Synod have put out a contract to find a Daedric artefact. They don't say what it is. Only that it's rumoured to be something important."

"Sounds a bit… vague." Monika suggested.

Guillard nodded his agreement. "Yeah. Real vague. From what I've been hearing, the Synod only heard about it because the word was going around the Thieves Guild that a valuable Daedric item was on the move."

Monika didn't indicate any particular interest. "We'll keep an eye out, but…"

Guillard continued. "I don't expect anything. Not unless something unusual happens on Fredas." He paused for a breath. "There's a Synod representative staying in town. A Breton called Rolston. I think it was a waste of time sending him here… but there you have it."

Monika had nothing to add. Alex continued to remain silent throughout.

"Well, there's no other jobs at the moment." Guillard lamented. "Still, all the other Guild Fighters are out and about. So, let me know before you head out of town."

"We will." Monika agreed.

"Alright, then." Guillard settled.

Monika and Alex turned and left Guillard's office. They headed back downstairs and left the Guildhall, stepping onto the walkway outside.

After just a few steps, Alex spoke up. "What is special about Fredas?"

Monika stopped and turned to Alex. "It's the thirteenth of Frostfall."

Alex only responded with a confused expression.

"The thirteenth of Frostfall. The Witches' Festival." Monika spoke as though it was perfectly self-evident.

"The Witches' Festival?" Alex didn't seem to know what she was talking about.

"Don't they still do that in Skyrim?"

"Uh, no. Not in Falkreath, anyway."

Monika paused to recall. "I'm fairly sure that they used to, when I was just a girl."

"Not any more." Alex seemed certain.

Monika elaborated. "Well, all the children will be running about the city on Fredas. All pretending to be witches, warlocks, and magical creatures. The College of Whispers will be busy." She nodded toward the building just to the north. "They'll be selling a lot of things at half price and offering free evaluations on enchanted weapons and items."

Alex considered that information as they started walking slowly northward along the street. "There does seem to be a lot of festivals in Cyrodiil."

"Yeah, I suppose." Monika accepted. "As I understand it, a lot them fell by the wayside during the interregnum. Since Titus Mede became Emperor… well, he made a big thing about bringing back most of the festivals. Even some of the ones that hadn't meant much for years."

Alex considered a moment. "They have the main ones in Falkreath. The new year and various harvest festivals… and a few others… but not this one."

"There's Emperor's Day coming up at the end of the month." Monika added lightly.

"They have not really done that in Falkreath since the Septims. The taverns still take note of the day, but there is no festival." Alex looked ahead along the street. "Where are we going?"

Monika indicated the building at the end of the street. "I want to drop in at that smith's store. See if they have glass-tipped arrows. We don't want to run low."

Alex and Monika visited the smiths and actually found what they were after. The shopkeeper tried to give them a free quiver, but they just walked out holding a light carry sack with their purchases. They next headed up to the stores located along the upper terrace that ran alongside the inn. They visited the general store and acquired some fresh stock of dried rations for travel as well as some other minor items. There was another store located just next door, called Novaroma. A family of Altmer ran the place. Monika had suggested it was the best place in Bruma for good pricing on potions. After looking at some of the other wares, they only replaced some healing potions.

Stepping back onto the streets of Bruma, Alex spoke. "What now?"

Monika looked out across the city. The day had remained clear and relatively warm for that time of the year. "We could just take a walk through the city, if you want."

"That sounds good." Alex agreed.

"Alright, then." Monika settled.

Alex carried the sack of goods over his shoulder as they walked. He had mentioned the statue of the man near the front of the Great Chapel of Talos. Monika had confirmed what he had thought. It was a statue of Tiber Septim. It represented him as the man he had been, rather than the dragon-form monuments of Talos in the Imperial City.

They passed the shabby looking tavern near the eastern gates and followed the street as it curved through the southern part of the lower city.

There wasn't really that much to see. It was just a number of houses of varied quality along the curve of the street as it made its way around and back toward to centre of town. Still, the mild sunny weather had made for a pleasant stroll.

Alex and Monika wandered back through the shops and houses of the northern end of town and then along the terraced streets above. A small schoolhouse was located just near the northern city gates. There were just a few small houses that hugged the castle walls along the uppermost terraced street. The only other thing of note up there was the weathered statue of the Champion of Cyrodiil outside the castle entrance.

After completing the full circuit of the city within the walls, they had agreed to just return to the inn. After all, they had done more than enough walking over the past few days.

Back in the room at the Jerall View Inn, they sorted through the items they had purchased and packed them away. The immediate plan was to just get something to eat downstairs and relax for the rest of the day.

Alex raised a thought. "Should we go to the College of Whispers here in Bruma?"

"Why?" Monika responded.

"Well, if I have been… poisoned by elven magicks…" Alex used the words from the note that he received on the mountain.

Monika's expression seemed concerned as she considered the suggestion. "No, I don't think that would be the best idea." After a pause. "I think we should wait until we get back to Chorrol. We should see Florence, instead. I know her and I'm pretty sure we can trust her."

Florence was the head of the College of Whispers office in Chorrol. Alex had only met her a couple of times when he was receiving training with healing spells, but Monika seemed to know her quite well.

Alex had just quietly agreed with Monika's assessment.

Before they headed downstairs, Monika had made another suggestion. "I'm thinking we could stay in Bruma for an extra night. Stay for the Witches' Festival."

"That sounds okay." Alex agreed. He was mildly curious about it and there was no other pressing matter on the horizon.

Monika and Alex headed back downstairs for some food and to secure their lodgings for an extra night. Unless something unexpected came up, they expected a few easy days before leaving Bruma on Loredas.

* * *

Volundare had just arrived at his household in Arenthia. Belwen had been tidying the dining area as he walked through. She had noted that he had been just a little earlier than usual. Volundare had only passed a glance of acknowledgment as he walked by. That was normal. He rarely spoke to her unless necessary. He went directly to his study.

Belwen had noticed that Volundare had been passing an increased amount of time in his study over the past few days. Normally, he would only remain in there for perhaps an hour or two each evening. She realised that something had changed since he had received that mysterious package the other day. She had no idea what it was about and she didn't expect to learn of it. She knew better than to even look at anything that might constitute Volundare's private business.

After a short while, Belwen had heard a caller arriving at the front entrance to the household. She quickly put aside what she was doing to attend the entrance.

Belwen looked up to see the tall female Altmer soldier that stood outside the entrance to the household. She was holding a large book bound in dark leather. Just like the soldier that arrived a few days earlier, she wore the Thalmor styled elven armour. The female soldier looked down at Belwen.

"Eressaire." The soldier identified herself tersely. "Inform Captain Volundare that I am here with the item that he requested."

Belwen postured subserviently. "Right away." She moved away to inform Volundare.

Volundare responded with a typical measure of irritation to the interruption. "What is it?" He kept his back to the doorway. He was holding something close to his chest, keeping it out of view.

Belwen tried to speak clearly. "A soldier called Eressaire is here. She asked me to inform you that she has the item you requested."

Volundare huffed with annoyance. "Just bring it to me."

Belwen didn't hesitate at all. She turned and headed directly back to the front entrance. The soldier was still standing exactly as she had been when Belwen had left.

Belwen avoided looking up at the soldier as she spoke. "Volundare has instructed me to bring the item to him."

Eressaire released a short sigh. "Very well." She placed the book in Belwen's hands and departed without further words.

Belwen carried the book directly to Volundare's study. He had risen from his seat and stood in the doorway. "Give me that." He snatched up the book from Belwen and briefly examined the leather binding.

Belwen had no idea what he was looking at. To her eyes, there seemed no indication of what the book was about. It had no obvious writing upon the binding, nothing but a vaguely faded pattern in the dark leather.

"Leave me." Volundare commanded. "I am not to be disturbed."

Belwen hesitated before speaking. "Should I prepare your evening meal?"

"Leave me." Volundare repeated. "If I require anything, I will call you."

Belwen turned and quickly left him. She remained uncertain whether she should start preparing a meal or not. She expected that Volundare would only become even more angry if he had to wait too long after calling for a meal. Accordingly, she decided to go ahead and prepare it anyway.

Belwen didn't know if there might be a less troublesome master that she could been assigned to serve. She imagined that there were probably others that were even worse. Either way, there was nothing that she could do about it. Belwen just tried to busy herself and put it out her mind.

* * *

Malcolm Forester had finally arrived at the gates of the Imperial City during the latter part of the afternoon. Even with the shortening mid-autumn days, it was still a good three hours short of dusk. His journey had remained relatively trouble free.

Shortly after passing a Legion patrol along The Black Road from Chorrol, a lone wolf had tried to take some interest. The wolf had spotted Forester and tried to make a run at attacking him. A single fireball striking the ground near its feet had sent it bolting back for the relative safety of the forest.

Around midday, a small trader's wagon had passed in the opposite direction. No words were exchanged, just a friendly nod of acknowledgment. Forester presumed that the wagon was most likely bound for Chorrol.

Later in the day, he had encountered another Legion patrol just outside of Weye, where The Black Road met The Red Ring Road that encircled the Lake Rumare region. He exchanged passing greetings with one of the soldiers. It was just the usual idle comments about the activity on the roads.

Forester had only briefly considered dropping in at the Wawnet Inn as he passed through the village of Weye. However, he knew that it was not kind of place that Alaron Suvaris would tend to frequent. Besides, he wasn't really in the mood to become entangled in any protracted conversations with Nerussa, the inn's owner.

Instead, Forester had proceeded directly along the main road through Weye and across the large stone bridge that led to the Imperial Isle and the city. After climbing the steep incline of the road from the bridge, he had noticed that old man upon the front porch outside the large stabling facilities of the city. As usual, the old man just sat there puffing away on his pipe, watching everyone that went by. It didn't seem to matter what time of the day it was. He always seemed to be there. Sometimes, he would even sit out on the porch during the earlier part of the evening. Forester had idly wondered whether the old man actually worked for the Penitus Oculatus. He chuckled inwardly as he considered that if the old man wasn't a spy, then it was a terrible waste of opportunity.

Forester passed through the main gates to the Imperial City without challenge. The taller guard with the large bushy moustache at the gates was familiar to him. The guard nodded him through with a friendly smile of recognition. Forester couldn't actually remember the man's name. He thought it either Gavros or Garrus. He just returned his own friendly nod instead of getting the man's wrong.

Crossing the curved paved street of the outermost edge of the Talos Plaza District, Forester continued ahead up the stone steps toward the Talos Plaza at the centre. He paused a moment by the central statue of Talos in the form of the dragon. As was often the case, the area about the central plaza seemed rather busy. People were passing by in each direction. The schools must finished for the day, as indicated by a group of children running madly down a side street. It looked like a young Argonian boy was chasing after four children of Imperial appearance. They were probably playing a game of tag or something like that. He was momentarily distracted by a beggar plying his trade. Other than watching out for his possessions, he had tried to just ignore the beggar and stepped away.

Forester had glanced toward the Tiber Septim Hotel just briefly. Of the three inns and taverns of that district, that one was unlikely to be worth investigating. That place did not openly welcome Dunmer patrons, except those that favoured an extravagant display of wealth. Suvaris did not fall into that category.

The only place that Suvaris might be likely to stop by for a meal was The Foaming Flask over by the north corner. Forester turned his gaze back toward the south. He decided that he would go check The All-Saints Inn just inside the Temple District first. If he had no luck there, he would come back to The Foaming Flask, then head on to the inns and taverns of the Elven Gardens District and the Market District. Even if he didn't find Suvaris, he knew of people that would be familiar with him.

Forester had no luck during the first part of his search for Alaron Suvaris. Of the people that he had asked, those that knew of him had not seen him in some time. He had even decided to check the Nine Divines Boarding House in the Temple District, as well as the less likely places in the Talos Plaza District.

The sun had set by the time that he marched along the broad curved thoroughfare of the main street of the Elven Gardens District. He made his way past the private residences of the district until he reached the crossroads at the centre. The streets were just a little crowded with people headed this way and that. Some people had probably only just finished their day not long before. Some were headed to their homes. Some were headed for taverns.

Upon one corner of the central crossroads was The King and Queen Tavern. Upon the corner directly across the side street was the Elven Gardens Boarding House. Suvaris might have been to either place. He also favoured The Merchant's Inn in the next district.

After just a moment of pause, Forester went through the front door of The King and Queen Tavern. Immediately, he had decided that something was different since he had last been there. After a moment, he had realised that it was the lighting. There were new lamps upon the walls and more of them than previously.

Before Forester had taken two steps forward, he was intercepted the young Imperial woman that worked at the tavern. "Welcome to The King and Queen Tavern. We treat all our patrons like royalty. I'm Livia Marillin. How may I help you?"

Forester cleared his throat. "Well, I expect that I'll just be wanting to attend the bar. Is Pinus in this evening?"

"Oh yes. My father should be serving the bar." Livia turned briefly to glance toward the bar at the far side of the tavern.

Forester had also looked in that direction. Pinus Marillin had just appeared from down behind the service bar. He had been bending down below the bar as Forester had come into the tavern.

"There he is." Livia offered.

"Very good." With a short nod, Forester started to make his way across the tavern.

There were a few patrons in the tavern, but it was not yet too crowded. Since the Dunmer did not appear to be among them, Forester didn't pay too much attention. Pinus had looked up as Forester approached the bar.

Forester spoke first. "Good evening Pinus."

Pinus narrowed his eyes as he searched for a name. "Forester, isn't it?"

"Yes, that's right." Forester grinned mildly through his cropped beard.

Pinus leaned slightly forward upon the bar. "As always, we have broad selection on offer. How may I help you?"

"Perhaps, a mug of one of your finer ales?"

"I have just the thing." Pinus reached down below and produced a bottle of Niben Valley Ale. He poured out a mug and accepted the payment.

After taking a sip of the beverage, Forester spoke again. "I was wondering if you might have seen a friend of mine from the Guild. I believe that he comes here sometimes. A Dunmer fellow by the name of Alaron Suvaris?"

Pinus nodded in the direction of the far side of the tavern. Forester swung his head about to see that Alaron Suvaris had just come down from upstairs.

"Ah, I see." Forester commented. He excused himself without looking back to Pinus. "Thank you for the fine ale."

"Always a pleasure." Pinus had called out as Forester stepped away from the bar.

Forester crossed the tavern to intercept Suvaris. Once close enough, he spoke loudly enough to be heard. "Alaron Suvaris."

The Dunmer turned with an expression of suspicion. His face lightened just a little as he recognised the bearded Imperial man approaching. He spoke evenly as the distance closed between them. "Forester."

"How are you, old friend?" Forester offered his usual friendly grin.

"I am well." Suvaris responded in the same tone. "And yourself?"

"Well, also. A mutual acquaintance told me you might be here. Frederick."

"Frederick the Loud." Suvaris expanded with his fully apt full name.

"Of course. He told me that he met with you in Bruma. He also mentioned that that you were headed for the Imperial City."

Suvaris appeared mildly wary. "Were you looking for me?"

Forester raised his eyebrows disarmingly. "Only after a casual fashion. Since I had not seen you in a while, I thought I might try to catch up with you."

Suvaris relaxed a little. "Well, you certainly have. I was about to take a meal."

"Then, perhaps I might join you?" Forester suggested.

"Certainly." Suvaris agreed.

They both headed over to see Pinus about a meal and then secured a table over by the side of the tavern.

Alaron Suvaris appeared a slightly lighter shade of gray than some Dunmer. He was probably quite a few years older than Forester, though it hardly showed. He stood just a little taller than Forester. His frame appeared deceptively lean. A long and narrow nose came to a slight hook at the end. The points of his ears seemed just a little longer than usual. A faded scar marked his left cheek just above his jaw line. His arched brow cradled his blood red eyes. Those eyes appeared to reflect some vaguely hidden depth of thought.

They spoke briefly as they waited for their order. Forester had talked about a few of his activities since they had last met up. Suvaris had mentioned that he heard something about a contract that Forester had taken for the Penitus Oculatus. Of course, Forester was not able to reveal any telling details about the matter. He mostly glossed over the incident, only indicating that an old artefact needed to be retrieved.

Livia had soon brought their meals, interrupting the conversation.

Toward the end of the meal, Forester had made mild attempts to redirect any further conversation toward Suvaris. He managed to hear just a little of what the Dunmer had been up to since they had last spoken. A great deal of it seemed rather more mundane than what had provoked Forester's curiosity in conversation with Frederick.

Forester prompted the topic in a specific direction. "And what about these Stendarr cultists in Cheydinhal?"

"Hmm." Suvaris struggled to finish chewing upon a mouthful of food. "Yes, the Vigilants of Stendarr. They have become… a little more official over the past year. At least in Cheydinhal."

"Why is that?" Forester could guess at some of it.

Suvaris composed himself to respond. "Well, as you would know, the people of Cheydinhal remain unsettled about the notion of Daedric threats and the like. Since that flying city from Oblivion that damaged the city and the took the lives of those didn't get away fast enough." Suvaris paused a moment.

Forester waited for Suvaris to continue.

"A few of those Vigilants of Stendarr had been coming and going from the city. The priests at the Chapel of Arkay had been complaining about them preaching to the people of the streets. They had also upset the Fighter's Guild from time to time." He paused again. "That all changed after a group of Vigilant's had taken down some rogue vampires. The vampires had been causing trouble down at Harlan's Watch. At least one of them was also sneaking into Cheydinhal at night."

Forester indicated his attention, but otherwise remained silent.

Suvaris continued again. "Well, the new Count took some notice of that. He allowed them to take up residence in a building just outside the city. He tried to settle things with the priests of the chapel and also asked the Fighter's Guild to be ah… to be a little more cooperative in matters of mutual interest."

Forester voiced the obvious question. "How has that worked out?"

Suvaris paused to sip at his drink. "Well enough, I think. Some of the other Fighters don't like them. But I don't really mind. In the proper circumstances, of course."

"Interesting." Forester considered the information.

"Not so much. Time will tell." Suvaris took another sip of his drink.

"So, what brings you to the Imperial City at this time?" Forester prompted.

"Nothing of note. Just meeting with a couple of people." Suvaris didn't seem inclined to elaborate further.

After a short moment, Forester spoke again. "I was actually considering a visit to Cheydinhal."

"I intend to head back to Cheydinhal in the morning." Suvaris advised.

Forester pushed aside his plate and emptied mug. "Well then, do you mind if I travel with you along the way?"

Suvaris briefly glanced across the table. "Not at all. Mind you, I plan to leave early in the morning. Just after dawn."

"Perfectly fine." Forester agreed.

They spoke for just a little longer before Suvaris retired to his room upstairs. They had agreed to meet outside the tavern just after dawn to head off for Cheydinhal.

Forester had asked about a room at the tavern and learned that there were none available. He quickly left The King and Queen Tavern behind to try across the street at the Elven Gardens Boarding House. He had often stayed at the place when he was in the city. He had no trouble securing accommodations for the evening.

Forester settled in for an early night. He intended to be up early to meet with Suvaris as discussed and then head on to Cheydinhal.

~O~


	9. Chapter 9

Evening Star

Greg J Miller

~O~

Chapter 9

Fredas the 13th of Frostfall 4E48

Malcolm Forester had woken reasonably early in the comfort of a room at the Cheydinhal Bridge Inn. It was one of the two better inns of that city. It was also the one nearest to the main gates of the city. He had previously stayed there some years ago. He had expected it to be both convenient and comfortable. In that respect, he had not been at all disappointed.

There was no particular rush that morning. He planned to ready himself in a casual manner before heading off to report to the Cheydinhal Fighter's Guild office. He expected that he would probably see Suvaris again when he was over there.

The previous morning, Forester had set off from the Imperial City with Suvaris. After meeting outside the tavern at dawn, they had made their way through the city to the main gates.

Forester was forced to adjust his plans once they left the city walls. Suvaris had collected his dark stallion from the stables. He had intended to make good time on his journey back to Cheydinhal. His plan was to make his destination by nightfall. If Forester wanted to come along, he could not keep up on foot.

Except when necessity dictated otherwise, Forester generally preferred to make his way on foot. He liked to take the time to see the countryside as he passed through. Besides, all that walking kept him from growing fat and lazy. However, that was not going work for him that day, not if he wanted to travel with Suvaris.

Accordingly, Forester had purchased a rather average mount from the stables. He intended to just sell the horse later, treating the difference as an expensive hire. It certainly wouldn't do for him to turn up at his father's home with a horse that he purchased from someone else. He would probably never hear the end of that.

Forester and Suvaris had made relatively good time along their journey. The ride had passed without notable incident. They travelled the main roads to their destination, following The Red Ring Road around Lake Rumare, then along The Blue Road directly to Cheydinhal. It was still early in the evening by the time that they arrived outside that city.

Upon reaching their destination, Forester had elected to find accommodation at an inn and Suvaris returned to the Guildhall in the city.

Forester had emerged from the inn onto the streets of Cheydinhal. It looked to be another pleasant autumn morning with the promise of a fine day ahead. The sun was well above the Valus Mountains by that time. Dark clouds had been gathering to the north during the previous afternoon, but that was gone. Only a few high clouds drifted across the sky, nothing that threatened unfavourable weather.

It had been more than five years since Forester had been to Cheydinhal. The last time that he had been there was just a couple of months before disaster had struck the city. He didn't have any opportunity to really see the city the previous evening. After entering the city through the western gates, he had gone directly to the inn just nearby.

Looking eastward along the paved street toward the centre of town, Forester was just mildly surprised that Cheydinhal did not seem all that different from five years earlier. He had reasonably expected that the physical damage to the city would have been much greater.

Of course, he understood that the greatest damage was the loss of life of those that had not departed quickly enough and those others that had mounted the futile defence of the city. Although Forester had not been directly involved, he had spoken with others that had survived the incident by retreating ahead of the carnage.

An army of undead creatures had advanced across the land ahead of the flying city from Oblivion. Those creatures had not been like the near mindless undead conjured by necromancers. They had fought more like the living people they had once been. Cheydinhal had been directly in the path. Any that fell in battle soon rose up as a creature of the attacking force. Once the flying city passed overhead, all living souls below were consumed and became part of that growing army of undead.

Forester continued to casually examine his surroundings as he started off down the street. Both of those inns by the western gates showed some outward sign of renovation or reconstruction. The Cheydinhal Bridge Inn appeared to have a new roof. The establishment across the street that was run by Dunmer appeared more or less as he remembered. The stores along the street also seemed similar to before, though some of signage had changed. He guessed that different people were running them now.

He had noticed a lot of Dunmer faces upon the street. That wasn't unusual for Cheydinhal. Even before the disasters that struck Morrowind decades earlier, that city had hosted a notable concentration of Dunmer. As the most north-eastern city of Cyrodiil, it was the one nearest to the border with that land.

It was not until he neared the end of that stretch that he observed some notable changes. There were a few houses that were obviously quite new. Some of them built upon land that was previously left open and green. He also noted that the old wooden bridge that crossed the stream running through the centre of the city had been completely replaced with a new one.

Forester continued around the bend in the street as it turned south until he came to the Fighter's Guild. He could see that the Guildhall show some signs of renovation, but it still looked much as it had previously. He proceeded inside.

The Guildhall appeared immediately familiar. To the best of his recollection, it seemed no different. Forester heard voices to his right. He peered around the corner. Two male Dunmer, a male Orsimer and a Nord woman sat at a table with some food. He didn't immediately recognise any of them, though he thought the Orc seemed vaguely familiar.

One of the Dunmer at the table offered a short nod to Forester and then pointed with his fork in his hand.

A male voice came from immediately behind. "Guild Porter Ramir. May I help you."

Momently startled, Forester turned to face the man behind him. The porter was an older Redguard, not the man that used to serve in that position. "Well… ah… yes. Malcolm Forester. Out of the Skingrad Guildhall. I am… an acquaintance of Suvaris. I expect that I should report to the head of the Guildhall."

The porter gazed at Forester a moment before responding. "Of course. Follow me."

Forester had expected to head upstairs, however the porter led him through the door to the basement level of the Guildhall. The lower level housed the smithing facilities and training area just as before. The area under the stairs used to serve as storage space. It had been cleared out to make room for a modest sized desk. Behind that desk sat a male Dunmer. Like Suvaris, his age was difficult to gauge. His darker hair was thinning and cropped short. He was probably older than Forester, but not old for a Dunmer.

The Dunmer had looked up as the porter made his announcement. "Malcolm Forester of the Skingrad Fighter's Guild." He then stepped back.

The Dunmer rose from his seat to take Forester's hand across the desk. "Drals Vedran. I'm head of this Guildhall."

Forester had taken Vedran's hand in greeting. "A pleasure to meet to you, sir."

Vedran remained standing. "What brings you here?"

"Nothing official." Forester offered. "Merely visiting the city. Since I'm here, I thought it best that I report to your office."

"Of course." Vedran accepted.

Vedran resumed his seat as their brief conversation continued. Forester had indicated that he was an acquaintance of Suvaris'. Vedran had related that contract work had been fairly busy over the past few weeks, but everything had been completed just two days earlier. There was no other work on offer at the moment. Although he hardly thought it qualified, he also made mention of that open contract for the Synod. That was the one about an unspecified Daedric artefact.

At some point, Forester had noted that the Guild Porter had disappeared from behind him. He had not heard him leave. He did hear the two Dunmer fighters come down from upstairs. They passed by and headed for the training area.

Vedran had advised Forester that he was welcome to make use of the Guildhall facilities during his visit. He also assured that him if anything came up needing an extra fighter, he would keep him in mind. Forester had thanked Vedran for his time and excused himself.

Returning to the main level of the Guildhall, Forester found Suvaris seated not far from the main entryway. He was wearing his heavy Orcish armour. He sat with his gauntlets and helmet in his lap. Both of his ebony swords were at his side. He looked like he was ready to go somewhere.

Forester offered a friendly nod as he approached. "Good morning to you."

"And to you." Suvaris returned.

Forester gave voice to his curiosity. "Are you… going somewhere?"

Suvaris stood. "Well, there are no jobs on the books, right now." He paused a moment. "But I'm thinking about taking a look at something."

Forester thought that Suvaris was being mysteriously vague. "Really? Would you like some company?"

Suvaris had the barest hint of a grim smirk upon his face. "I could do with an extra set of eyes… and blades."

Forester grinned more easily. "Very good."

Suvaris silently nodded in the direction of the front door.

Forester stepped aside. "After you, my friend."

Forester followed Suvaris outside onto the street. They headed along the street to where it turned westward through the main market area.

Forester spoke up. "Where are we headed?"

"Out of the city." Suvaris kept his response brief.

Forester had glanced at Suvaris. It seemed that he had nothing to add.

Three children had dashed by along the street. Two of them were Dunmer. The third looked like a Nord boy. Two of them looked like they had pasted their faces with a mixture of flour and water. The third was wielding a branch as though it were a mage's staff. The boy pretending to be a mage had called out as he chased the other two. "Foul vampires."

They all disappeared off around a corner and out of view. It was just then that Forester remembered that it was the thirteenth, the day of the Witches' Festival. He had not noticed anything else of note in the city to remind him of that. In light of recent events, he had briefly wondered if it was actually observed in Cheydinhal.

Forester and Suvaris had soon reached the main gates at the western wall. They passed through and continued along the road outside. Forester had looked to the stabling facilities over by the side of the road. He considered the horse that he had stabled there.

"Will we be needing the horses?" Forester inquired.

Suvaris only glanced briefly. "We'll not be going that far."

After a moment of silence, Forester pressed further. "Where exactly are we going?"

"Just a few leagues to the south." Suvaris offered. "I'll tell you more… once I'm sure we're not being followed."

Forester resisted turning to look about. He wondered what Suvaris was up to. He knew him well enough to trust him in battle. Still, this particular circumstance seemed more than a little strange. He tried to think of what it might be that should cause him to behave so suspiciously, but he came up with nothing. He decided he would wait a little longer before pressing him again.

* * *

Ras'Dar had awoken feeling rather terrible. He realised that he was not upon the bed of his rented room. He was lying upon the mat on the wooden floor of the room. He couldn't remember how he had ended up there. In fact, he couldn't remember even coming back to the room at the inn.

The Khajiit slowly rolled over and sat up. His head throbbed mildly as he did so. He remembered that he had been drinking in the tavern the previous evening. He tried to recall more, but it eluded him. He had been drinking, and then he was on the floor of his room. Whatever had passed in between seemed to be lost to him.

He suddenly considered his purse of gold. After a brief panic, he found it inside one of the pockets of his leather vest. However, it seemed lighter than he expected. He emptied the content onto the floor to examine the coins. He counted them, and then counted again. At least half of what he held just three days earlier was already gone.

Ras'Dar had been wondering where the awful smell in the room had been coming from. He soon realised it was coming from himself. It was the smell of stale alcohol in his fur.

He wandered over to the large water basin upon the table by the window. He tried his best to wash away the odours. It helped a little.

He opened the window to sample the fresh air from outside and paused to think a moment. He did not feel so well, but the fresh air seemed to help. He tried to breathe more deeply.

The Khajiit recognised that he might have been quite clever at times. However, he was not always as smart as he might have liked. Especially when it came to remembering lessons he had already learned before. He told himself that he should have only stayed one night at the inn and that he should have passed less time in the tavern. He remembered having told himself the very same thing more than once before.

He decided that it was time to go. He reminded himself that it was probably the right time to go two days ago. He considered going over to the Hillside Boarding Den. He thought that he would spend just one night there. After cleaning himself up and allowing the drink to pass from his system, he would go see those Imperial soldiers at the barracks outside of Riverhold. Perhaps they would have further need of a clever Khajiit. Ras'Dar would try to hold onto his gold for a little longer next time.

* * *

Monika and Alex had emerged from their room at the Jerall View Inn rather later that morning. They had slept in late after the amorous activities of the previous evening. There was no rush at all. They had planned for another lazy day before departing the next morning.

They headed directly out of the inn onto the streets of Bruma. The morning chill had gone from the air by that time. It looked like a relatively warm and pleasant day head. Unlike the previous day, there was no chilly wind to undermine the warmth of the sun. The weather had threatened to turn nasty during Turdas. Dark clouds had moved in with icy winds. It seemed to have completely cleared overnight and the skies again appeared mostly clear and blue.

The streets seemed far more crowded that morning than they had been during the past two days. It seemed that everyone was out on the streets for the Witches' Festival. Monika had suggested that some of the people would have come from the local villages and settlements for the day.

As she had told Alex earlier, many of the stores in the city would be closing early that day, probably around midday. Some would not be opened at all. The street vendors that decided to trade that day would do brisk business, as would the taverns and inns. The College of Whispers would also be quite busy that day, though not necessarily profitable.

The Great Chapel of Talos would be likely to have far more visitors than usual throughout the day. That was already fully evident. As Alex and Monika came down from the terraced street, they could see that the doors to the temple remained fully open as people came and went.

A few outdoor stalls were operating in the open space of the broad street at the front of the chapel. Some musicians were playing music in the street. There was even a performer juggling fire-sticks for the entertainment of passers-by.

With the schoolhouse closed for the festival, there were quite a few children on the streets that morning. Just a few were watching the musicians and other entertainers on the streets. Some were playing the usual kinds of games that children played in the street. A greater number appeared swept up in the spirit of the Witches' Festival. They were running about pretending to be mages, witches, warlocks and magical creatures of various kinds. There were just a few children wearing costumes and masks that seemed as though they had been made for travelling bards. Others looked more like they had made them themselves. Alex's eye had been drawn toward three children pretending to be undead creatures as they chased after another boy dressed as a mage. He was briefly reminded of those undead that they fought in the caves beneath Wellspring Grove Island. Of course, it was all just harmless fun for those children.

Monika and Alex had casually wandered along the streets of the city. Eventually, they found themselves back at the centre of town near the large stone chapel. They sought out a clear spot alongside a wall and leaned back to watch the activities. Unless anything unexpected arose, they planned to just relax the rest of the day. After an early evening and a good night's sleep, they would leave Bruma early the next morning and continue on their way.

* * *

Forester and Suvaris had been walking for more than three hours since they had left Cheydinhal behind. Suvaris had remained evasive during their walk along the road. Forester had decided to leave it alone for a little longer.

At a point near a slight bend in the road, Suvaris had paused and checked each direction to be sure that no one was about. In response to Forester's query, Suvaris had only advised that they should leave the road and head directly southward. More than an hour had passed since they had last spoken.

To the best of Forester's recollection, there was nothing of note in that direction but wilderness. He believed that the upper reaches of the Corbolo River extended into that region, but that was just from looking at maps. He had never had any reason to actually travel to that area before.

They had just reached a copse of trees near the top of a rise, when Forester had decided to prompt Suvaris for some idea of what they were doing. "I thought we weren't going that far. We might have just taken the horses, if this was to be a longer journey."

Suvaris appeared only slightly annoyed by the comment. "It's not that much further. It is easier to be quiet without the horses."

Forester came to a stop. "Divines. What is this about and where are we going?"

Suvaris also stopped and turned back to look at Forester. He paused before speaking. "We're headed for Lake Poppard."

"What's at Lake Poppard?"

"There's a shrine to Vaermina."

"A Daedric shrine?" Forester remained confused.

"That's right." Suvaris confirmed.

Forester's expression indicated that he expected something more.

Suvaris elaborated just a little. "I hear there's supposed to be some connection between Vaermina and vampires."

Forester remained confused. "As I understand it, some other Daedric lord is said to be the original creator of the vampires."

"Molag Bal." Suvaris offered. "They say that he is responsible for the creation of the first vampires. However, I have reason to believe that Vaermina has some connection to some of the current breeds of vampire."

Forester tried to make sense of Suvaris' words. "So… does this have something to do with the vampires that you mentioned previously? The ones that plagued Cheydinhal?"

Suvaris sighed. "I just learned that those Vigilants of Stendarr went to the shrine of Vaermina a few days ago. I heard that they eliminated a group of Daedra worshippers at the shrine." Suvaris turned to resume walking.

Forester moved to catch up. "So, how is that a bad thing?"

"I didn't say that it was. I just want to see what they've done."

"I thought you had been cooperating with those Vigilants of Stendarr. It sounds as though you don't trust them."

"Not without reservation."

"Did the head of your Guildhall ask you to do this?

"No. He doesn't know."

"Ah. I see." Forester paused to consider. "This has something to do with your recent visit to the Imperial City."

Suvaris gave Forester a sideways glance. He quickened his pace a little. Forester matched his stride to keep up.

After a few moments of silence, Forester spoke again. "So, how far is it to this lake?"

"It should be less than a league through these woods." Suvaris offered.

They continued onward in silence for a while. The rough terrain rose and fell through the hills. It was not really heavily forested. The woods remained somewhat patchy. Thicker in some places and less so in others. The land to the south appeared to be trending downhill toward their destination. However, there was still no sign of a lake ahead.

Not so far from their objective, they encountered trouble. A large wolf had appeared in their path. Another two had quickly joined the first. The three wolves didn't really stand much of a chance against the experience of those two Guild Fighters. Perhaps, five or six might have presented more of a match. It was over quite quickly, at least for the wolves.

Further downhill, the top of a statue had come into view through the trees. Suvaris had advised that they approach more quietly and carefully. He didn't really expect anyone to be there, but thought it better to remain cautious. Forester agreed.

Moving with some caution, they continued down the hill through the trees and underbrush. They had come to a halt just by the edge of the clearing about the stone statue of Vaermina. It was only then that they could see the small lake just beyond. It was drawing near to midday by that time. After a moment or two, they were satisfied that they appeared to be alone.

They stepped into the clearing. The statue of Vaermina stood atop a tall stone pedestal. The top of the shrine was at least three times the height of a man. Vaermina was portrayed as an older woman dressed as a mage or witch holding a magical staff. The facial expression seemed designed to instil fear. The shrine had been defaced about the pedestal. It looked as though blood had been used to scrawl the words across the stone. It read, IN THE NAME OF STENDARR.

Near the base of the shrine, were the remains of a large fire that had burned out. Not everything had been fully reduced to ash. Aside from the wood, it was obvious that corpses had been burned in the flames. At least, they presumed that they were dead when they had been burned. It was also a presumption that they had been Daedra worshippers, though it seemed unlikely that anyone else might have been at such a shrine.

It seemed to Forester that they had seen all there was to see. It also appeared all rather self evident to his thinking. At least as much as it could be without actually witnessing what took place. "So, is this what you expected to find?"

"More or less." Suvaris continued to cast his eyes over the scene.

Forester had again looked over the remains of the fire. "I wonder whether they put up much a fight."

Suvaris also looked over the ashes. "I don't expect we'll ever know. The Vigilants don't provide much detail."

"I had a bit of a run-in with a couple of those Vigilants last year." Forester mentioned. "It was just outside of Skingrad. I heard they had come from Kvatch. They challenged me over using destruction magic, but they backed down fairly easily."

Suvaris looked to Forester. "I try to avoid using any magic on any joint missions with the Vigilants. Except for healing spells, of course."

Forester met Suvaris' eyes. "I didn't know you used any other magic."

"I know some warding spells… and a frost spell, but I mostly rely upon my blades. As you well know."

Forester just nodded, falling silent for a moment. After brief consideration, he gave voice to a thought. "I feel that you did not come here just to satisfy your curiosity."

Suvaris had looked away across the small lake.

Forester pressed a little more. "Is this something to do with the Penitus Oculatus?"

Suvaris looked back toward Forester, but did not look him in the eye. "No. Not as far as I know. Not directly anyway."

Forester adopted a grim smile. "Well, as you have heard, I have had some dealings with them. From my experience, they don't seem to be particularly direct."

Suvaris looked up to Forester. He appeared hesitant. "I expect I can trust you to observe discretion?"

"Of course." Forester assured. "However, I would not expect you to compromise yourself in any manner."

Suvaris considered only briefly before speaking. "I don't think I know of anything of… of a special level of secrecy." Watching Forester more intently, he continued. "I was asked to keep an eye on the Vigilants of Stendarr at Cheydinhal and report my observations. I was also asked not to mention it around anyone in Cheydinhal."

"They won't hear anything from me." Forester tried to sound sincere. "So, that was why you were in the Imperial City?"

Suvaris nodded just the once. "Reporting in person, to a Synod mage at the Arcane University."

"The Synod." Forester's expression indicated his distaste.

Suvaris knew that Forester retained a measure of bitterness over his parting with the Synod. "They just want to know about the activities of the Vigilants. I would expect that there's a good deal of distrust and suspicion." Suvaris released a breath, then glanced at the ashes again. "I can't say that I blame them. The Vigilants seem agreeable enough on the missions with Fighter's Guild members, but out on their own… I'm not so certain what to think."

"Yes, I suppose." Forester agreed mildly.

"There's nothing else to see here." Suvaris concluded.

"No, I suppose not."

Forester and Suvaris turned away from the shrine and started the journey back to Cheydinhal. It would be late in the afternoon by the time that they arrived.

* * *

Monika and Alex had remained in the centre of Bruma for the past few hours. They had watched two performances by a troupe of four bards acting out their plays about old tales of the tragedies of those that followed dark magic. It had been entertaining enough.

By mid-afternoon, they had decided to take another casual walk along the streets before heading back to the inn. As they walked along the lower street that headed north from the centre of town, they spotted Guillard standing out the front of the Fighter's Guild.

The Redguard had evidently seen them first and had been waiting to draw their attention. He waved his hand and signalled them to come over.

Guillard spoke first. "I was hoping to catch you before you left." His expression seemed difficult to read.

Alex glanced to Monika.

Monika responded. "Why is that?"

Guillard indicated the door to the Guildhall with a tilt of his head. Monika nodded her understanding. They followed the Redguard inside.

Once in the Guildhall, Guillard spoke again. "I have a job for you, if you're interested."

"What's the job?" Monika spoke in a neutral tone.

"Upstairs." Guillard gestured to the stairs.

Monika and Alex followed him up to his office.

Guillard had gone directly to his desk and collected a scroll. He paused to unroll the document and check it over. "Alright, it's fairly straight forward."

Monika prompted him to continue. "So, what's the job, then?"

Guillard looked to both of them. "Just a simple delivery, really."

Alex caught Monika's eye just briefly. The last time they accepted a simple delivery, the end result soon became anything but simple.

"What's it about?" Monika pressed.

"Rolston, that Synod representative I mentioned. He brought this over about an hour ago." Guillard reach over the desk and picked up something from the chair. It was something wrapped in a purple cloth. "He wants the Guild to get this delivered to the Imperial City."

Monika could see that it looked like a box wrapped in cloth. "What is it?"

Guillard looked at the package. He seemed hesitant to unwrap it. "It's supposed to be a Daedric dagger that someone brought in to the College today. Rolston says it has some sort of enchantment and it's best to leave it in the box and wrapped in the cloth."

Alex spoke up. "Is this the Daedric artefact that the Synod are looking for?"

Guillard shook his head. "I doubt it. They're only paying three hundred to get this delivered. Whatever that other thing is, it's probably worth thousands. This is probably important, but not as important as the other thing."

Monika asked the obvious question. "Okay, who does it need to go to?"

Guillard glanced again to the scroll. "It needs to be delivered to the Arcane University, to a Synod mage by the name of Moorcroft."

"Sounds fine." Monika settled. "What else?"

"That's about it. Just get it to this Moorcroft in the next couple of days."

"We can do that." Monika confirmed.

Guillard seemed satisfied. "Alright, then. I just need to get you to sign the contract. You'll also need to take these papers." He indicated a second scroll with a wax seal. "Hand this over and they'll provide payment upon delivery."

Monika attended to the paperwork. They gathered up the package and sealed scroll and headed back for the inn.

"So, back to the Imperial City." Alex spoke as they walked along the street.

Monika grimaced. "Yeah. I guess Chorrol can wait."

Up until then, they had not settled upon going directly back to Chorrol or going to the Wawnet Inn at Weye. It seemed that circumstance had settled the matter for them.

Alex was trying to imagine the distance from Bruma to the Imperial City. "Can we make that journey in a single day?"

Monika shook her head. "Not on foot. Even if we tried really hard, it'd be pretty late into the night by the time we got there."

"What about Weye?"

"There's no great rush. Even if we take our time, we can probably make it to Aleswell before dark."

"Aleswell?" Alex repeated.

"There's an inn there. It's not very good, but it'll do for just one night."

"I thought that Aleswell was not all that far from the city."

"Not by line of sight, but it'll take a few hours by road."

Alex just accepted her judgement.

Monika and Alex arrived back at the inn and went directly to their room. They made a start on preparations to head out in the morning. After taking an evening meal in the tavern downstairs, they would make an early night of it.

~O~


	10. Chapter 10

Evening Star

Greg J Miller

~O~

Chapter 10

Sundas the 15th of Frostfall 4E48

After a restful evening, Malcolm Forester had emerged from the Cheydinhal Bridge Inn onto the main street. Some of the stores along the street were already open for business. As it was Sundas, some would open just a little later. There were some lighter clouds over the northern mountains, but it was too early to tell if they threatened any inclement weather. Another mild and pleasant autumn day looked more likely.

Forester had decided to take a casual walk through the streets of Cheydinhal, before visiting the Fighter's Guild. He didn't really expect to learn of any reason to remain in the city. He thought that he might just go see Suvaris, then report to the head of the Guildhall and advise him of his intention to leave the city the next day.

The previous day had actually brought some unexpected work. A farming family that came into town on Fredas had reported a group of ogres near the eastern road. The family was from the small settlement of Mountain Watch, just a few leagues to the east. Those days, it was only the farmers that travelled that road. The road actually extended all the way to a pass through the Valus Mountains leading into southern Morrowind. Many years had passed since the road had been travelled for that purpose. Nonetheless, Mountain Watch and its people fell under the protection of the Count of Cheydinhal.

The Fighter's Guild was contracted to escort the farmer's wagon back to Mountain Watch and clear the ogres from the eastern road. Since they believed that there were three or four ogres in the group, all five of the Guildhall's current fighters went sent out. Forester was also invited to join them.

Ogres mostly tended to wander the more mountainous regions of wilderness. It was less often that they were encountered close to more populated areas. However, the cooler seasons did seem to bring them down to the lower country, as game became more scarce.

The lumbering pale gray creatures could be quite formidable. Although they were human-shaped, that was where the comparison ended. The larger ones stood nearly one and a half times the height of a man. The only thing small about them was their tiny heads. Their bodies and limbs were huge and muscular. They often appeared to move quite slowly, but that could be deceptive. An attacking ogre would commonly move with a short burst of great speed and be upon its victim in no time. It was said that an ogre could crush the head of a man with its huge hands. It was never a good idea to get too close to one.

The Guild Fighters had set off during the morning with the farmer's wagon. It was not until they were almost two-thirds of the way that they spotted the ogres. One was standing by the roadside. Another two were just nearby.

Dravil, the Dunmer leading the group, had told the farmers to hold back with their wagon. The six Guild Fighters moved ahead to tackle the threat. They had come prepared for the task. Dravil and the other Dunmer, Alvis, had poisoned arrows for their bows. As did Leda, the Nord woman. Ogres were susceptible to most poisons, the more potent the better. They had planned to attack the beasts from a sensible distance. Forester had disclosed his competency with fireball spells. That would serve just as well as the arrows.

Suvaris and the Orsimer, Griznak, would hold back until the battle turned to melee. It was their job to take point as everyone else switched to hand-to-hand weapons.

Upon Dravil's signal, they had engaged the ogres. The beasts were quickly spiked with poisoned arrows from the three archers. Forester had concentrated his fireballs upon the largest of the ogres, but also fired upon the other ones, distributing his own attacks.

Once the assault had begun, another smaller ogre had joined the group from just out of sight, bringing their number to four. The ranged attacks had certainly slowed and staggered the beasts, but hadn't actually put any of them down.

As anticipated, the ogres did not turn from the fight, but slowly pressed forward. The combat had soon turned to melee weapons. The poisoned and singed ogres were somewhat easier to handle than they would have been otherwise. Still, it had taken quite a bit of work to finish them.

By the end of the fight, all four of the ogres were dead and all six of the Guild Fighters still standing. There were a few strains and bruises, but only the Orsimer had sustained a notable injury. Griznak had taken a blow to the shoulder that left his right arm hanging limp. He was obviously in a great deal of pain, even though he would not admit to it. It had taken three of them to hold the Orc down and pull his arm into position. Since Forester was the most skilled with healing magic, he did his best to heal the damage to Griznak's shoulder. Provided that he didn't use his arm, he could expect it to be back to normal in a few days.

At Dravil's instruction, Griznak went to give the all clear to the farmers. The rest of them attended to dragging the bodies of the ogres well off the road. Leaving the carcasses too close to the road would only attract scavengers and predators.

Once the ogres had been dealt with, the Guild Fighters escorted the farmers the rest of the way to Mountain Watch. With the job done, they had turned about and headed directly back along the road for Cheydinhal. They were back in the city by dusk.

Forester had collected his payment at the Fighter's Guild, then retired to the inn. He felt somewhat pleased with himself that evening. It had been just the kind of purposeful distraction that he had been hoping for. Using his skills to help the common folk of the land, with a group of skilled fighters at his side. A relatively straight forward task with a clear and simple outcome. He slept quite well that night.

Upon his Sundas morning walk through Cheydinhal, Forester had tried to take one last good look around the place. He had noted the people attending the Chapel of Arkay. Just from looking at that crowd, it seemed that nearly half the populace of the city were Dunmer. Of course, he was just looking at a smaller sample of city's people. Nonetheless, he imagined that it was still a fair judgement that the Dunmer made up for more than four in ten of the people of Cheydinhal. He had just noticed some damage to the masonry near the top of the temple. It seemed to serve as a reminder of the attack upon the city just five years earlier. He thought it somewhat interesting that the stonework had not been fully restored.

Forester had shifted his view to look up the hill toward the stone walls of the Count's castle. He could not see any obvious indication of damage from where he was standing. He had not heard much talk of the new Count, neither with favour or otherwise. Forester had casually wondered what the people thought of their new ruler. With the ending of the Indarys line, it was the first time in a very long time that Cheydinhal had not been ruled by a Dunmer Count.

He cast his eyes back toward the small river that ran through the centre of the city. Its calm waters remained one of the most pleasing features of the city. Except in times of heavy rain, or with the spring melt from the mountains, the waters hardly flowed. It seemed that the lazy river changed far less than the people that walked along its grassy banks.

After a short time, Forester had finished his walk along the streets of Cheydinhal and arrived at the Fighter's Guild. He climbed the steps and went inside the Guildhall.

Aside from the Redguard porter, Forester had spotted only Leda and Griznak sitting at the table to his right. He had offered a passing greeting to his fellow Guild Fighters before Remir escorted him downstairs to see Drals Vedran.

Forester had observed Dravil and Alvis sparring in the training area. They were far too busy to take note of his presence. He spoke with the head of the Guildhall and advised him of his intent to depart the city the next day. He also thanked him for his consideration and for allowing him to participate in the mission of the previous day.

As he walked back up the stairs, Forester had wondered where he might find Suvaris. As it passed, he need not have wondered. Alaron Suvaris was sitting just by the main door. Just like the other day, he was sitting there in his armour with his helmet and gauntlets upon his lap. From the subtle look in his eyes, it seemed that he had been waiting for Forester.

Forester spoke first. "Suvaris. I was hoping to see you here."

Suvaris stood up from his seat. "Of course."

"I've just been to see Vedran. Since there's not much else happening, I let him know that I'm planning to leave the city tomorrow morning." Forester paused a moment, noting that Suvaris seemed a little tense. "Are you going somewhere?"

Suvaris hesitated just slightly. Anyone that didn't know him might not have noticed. "I thought perhaps you might like to have a drink at the inn… since you're leaving soon."

It was Forester's turn to hesitate. "Well, ah… it's only just after ten…"

Suvaris almost smiled. "It is probably midday in Morrowind by now."

Forester did not restrain the broad smile parting his beard. "I suppose that it must be." He gestured toward the door. "After you, my friend."

Suvaris nodded silently and they both departed the Guildhall.

They could have gone to any one of the inns or taverns of Cheydinhal, but for the sake of simplicity they went directly to the one that Forester had been staying at. After ordering their drinks, Forester and Suvaris found a table in a quiet corner of the tavern and sat down. A moment passed as neither of them spoke.

Forester broke the silence, speaking quietly. "So, my friend… I sense that you might have something on your mind."

Suvaris had made a point of taking a subtle look about as he sipped at his ale. He kept his voice low. "Hmm, yes. I was just wondering if you had any plans for the rest of the day."

"Well, it seems that I do find myself at liberty."

"I was thinking about taking a walk. Perhaps, north of the city."

"Really?" Forester paused to take a sip of his drink.

Suvaris sought out Forester's gaze. He leaned forward as he spoke. "I hear that the Vigilants went missing again yesterday." He paused to gauge Forester's interest. "The guard at the eastern gate tells me that he saw them leaving just after we headed off for Mountain Watch."

"Headed north, I take it?"

"That's what I heard."

"And you'd like to see what they might be up to?"

"In short, yes." Suvaris confirmed.

Forester took a longer sip upon his drink as he considered. "Well, perhaps we should finish our drinks and then take a walk."

Suvaris nodded curtly and took a mouthful of ale.

Forester and Suvaris quickly finished their drinks. Forester had collected his other equipment from his room and then they both departed the inn.

Pausing in the street, Forester turned to Suvaris. "Will we be requiring the horses?"

Suvaris shook his head. "I don't know where we're going, but I think we'd best travel on foot. It'll be quieter. Besides, I expect we'll probably need to do some tracking."

"Very good, then." Forester indicated his agreement and fell into step as they proceeded through the city toward the eastern gate.

Outside the gate, Suvaris had silently nodded to the lone guard. The guard seemed to recognise Suvaris. Forester presumed that he was the man that Suvaris had mentioned previously. Following the road eastward, they walked in silence for a short distance. As they walked, Suvaris had been paying close attention to the side of the road. No more than a quarter of an hour had passed before they slowed to a halt.

"This looks like it." Suvaris announced, indicating the tracks in the dirt.

Forester looked over the prints left by a number of boots, then cast his eyes toward the north. The obvious tracks disappeared across the low grasses. The area immediately ahead was only lightly forested. Beyond that, the land rose up toward the northern highlands with the mountains looming above. "These Vigilants… just how many are there in this group?"

"Just the five at the moment, I think."

Forester glanced to Suvaris. His expression indicated he expected a better answer.

"Sometimes, there are more." Suvaris offered. "I was told there were just five in the group that headed off yesterday."

Forester just nodded his acceptance and they started off in a northerly direction.

After a few moments, Forester had spoken up again. "So, you have no idea where we are headed?"

Suvaris maintained a neutral expression. "Not really."

Forester looked further ahead as they walked. "So, what lies ahead in this direction?"

Suvaris indicated a direction slightly to the left. "That way, there's a small lake and some abandoned mines." He indicated the highlands slightly to the right. "The Rugdumph Estate is a few leagues in that direction."

They continued onward, looking for further signs of a trail. Something else had been on Forester's mind. "Supposing we actually run into these Vigilants of Stendarr…" Suvaris didn't immediately respond to the prompt. "Won't they be somewhat suspicious if we cross paths with them? Possibly hostile?"

Suvaris glanced at Forester just briefly. "Don't be too concerned. If it comes to it, just let me do the talking. Some of them know me."

Despite Suvaris' words, Forester remained somewhat concerned.

They soon picked up some fresh tracks that veered off to the right. They adjusted their path accordingly and continued onward toward the north.

* * *

Ras'Dar had been hiding behind some bushes near a copse of trees for at least two hours. A fox had emerged from the underbrush near the small lake west of Riverhold. The animal had paused to sniff the air, then moved briskly down toward the water's edge. He felt certain that he would spot some game by the water sooner or later. He was hoping for deer, but he would settle for a fox. It was better than nothing.

The Khajiit had drawn back upon his hunting bow, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. The fox dipped its head to the water. Ras'Dar released an arrow. The fox was struck in the side of the chest. It had stumbled and tried to run, but found that its front legs didn't work right. Ras'Dar had prepared a second arrow, but held onto it. The fox only managed a few steps before falling over onto its side, still twitching with spasms.

Ras'Dar dashed out from his hiding place. Approaching the wounded animal, he drew his long dagger to finish the kill. He knew that the carcass of the animal would not be worth very much. Provided that he skinned it correctly, the pelt would be worth a little more. It seemed like a lot of work for what he would gain from it. He was going to need to do far better than a fox to make the hunting worthwhile.

The previous day, Ras'Dar had gone to the Legion barracks outside the city. He had hoped to find scouting work with the Imperial soldiers or something like that. They had told him that there was nothing available for at least a week. He left his name on the list with the intention of returning before the week was done.

With no easy gold on offer from the Imperials, Ras'Dar decided he should head into the woods to make use of his hunting skills. He knew that those skills would grow dull if he didn't use them more often.

Since he had become quite familiar with the area, he had decided to head into the woods just west of Riverhold. Ras'Dar followed the stream that cascaded down through the city and then flowed westward. He had staked out a spot along the small river just a couple of leagues from the city. With the cooler season approaching, Ras'Dar knew to expect that deer would be coming up the foothills from Cyrodiil. As the grasses dried out in the southern hills of The West Weald, some of the deer would migrate into the north of Elsweyr in search of greener pastures. It was still a little early in the season, but he hoped that luck would be on his side.

However, nothing had come his way. Ras'Dar had decided to move further downstream to where the stream flowed into that small lake. It was much closer to the border with Cyrodiil. Only after the fact, he considered that he should been there with the rising of the sun. He might have seen more than just a small fox.

As Ras'Dar cleaned his kill, he considered what he would do next. He didn't want to head back Riverhold without something more. He decided that he would press a little further westward in search of more game. He held no great concern over moving into the forest just north of the village of Tardorn Wood. He knew that area well enough. However, he wasn't too eager to go much further. He had heard that Cyrodiilic trolls wandered the forests below the small township of Seaplace. Although he understood the great value of harvesting troll fat from a carcass, those creatures could be quite dangerous for a lone hunter.

Even a smaller deer would make the hunt worth the effort. All in all, he'd much rather he was just travelling alongside the Imperial soldiers and collecting their gold.

* * *

Belwen returned from outside with a basket full of freshly cleaned clothing. She could hear someone at the front entrance of the household yet again. She quickly put aside her burden and rushed to see who was there. It was yet another one of those Altmer soldiers with a delivery for Volundare. It was the fourth time in the past few days that someone had arrived with a book for her master. Each time, it had been someone different.

As she had been previously instructed, Belwen took possession of the delivery and then sought out Captain Volundare. She knew exactly where to find him. It was Volundare's day off from active duty and he had been in his study the entire day. In fact, from the appearance of his bedroom, it seemed that he had probably passed most of the previous evening there.

Belwen had actually tried to make her arrival as noisy as possible to attract Volundare's attention. She stood at the entrance to his study and waited briefly. He continued to sit with his back to her, poring over the text of the book in front of him. It seemed that he remained unaware of her presence. Finally, Belwen was forced to announce her presence.

"I have another delivery for you." She had spoken softly.

A moment passed before Volundare recognised the interruption and then slowly turned his head in her direction. His expression appeared distant. His golden eyes looked dull and slightly vacant. It seemed that he hadn't heard what she had said.

Belwen repeated herself. "I… I have another delivery for you."

Volundare's response sounded as distant as his expression. "Another delivery? Of course, another… another delivery." His expression switched suddenly, reflecting a barely contained anger. "The book. Give it to me. Give it to me now."

Belwen jumped slightly in reaction to his outburst. She quickly handed over the book and then took a step back. She waited to see if he would issue any further instruction.

With the book in his hands, Volundare's disposition appeared to shift yet again. "Yes… yes, this looks…" His tone became vague and distracted. "Leave me to…"

Belwen avoided asking whether he wanted anything. She quickly withdrew before his mood became inflamed again. Of course, she still held no idea of the reasons behind Volundare's current obsessions, nor did she expect to learn anything of such matters. Her only concern was that it made her existence even more difficult. She preferred it when he was more consistently surly. At least then, she knew what to expect.

As she returned to her household tasks, Belwen's mind drifted to fantasy. By her estimation, Volundare seemed quite old. Perhaps, he might drive himself to illness. If he were no longer capable, he might be replaced in his position as the Captain of the Thalmor Guard. In such a circumstance, she might herself assigned to serving a different master. Perhaps someone less difficult, if such a thing was possible. Of course, all of that was just an idle daydream.

~O~


	11. Chapter 11

Evening Star

Greg J Miller

~O~

Chapter 11

Sundas the 15th of Frostfall 4E48

Monika and Alex had fully intended to arrive in the Imperial City during the afternoon of Sundas. They had been on the move since Loredas morning. As planned, they had departed Bruma early that morning. Leaving the main gates of that city, they had followed The Silver Road as it wound downhill from the high country. Aside from the Imperial patrols, the road was quiet that day. At several places along the way, the White-Gold Tower of the Imperial City came into view through the trees. Even the city itself could be seen at some points, though it remained seemingly distant until they had nearly reached The Red Ring Road that encircled Lake Rumare.

As intended, they had turned westward at the end of The Silver Road and continued onward until they reached the village of Aleswell. It was near to dusk by the time that they arrived.

Aleswell was not a large settlement. It was really no more than a small farming community along The Red Ring Road. The village comprised just eight houses and the inn. A number of modest sized crop fields surrounded the settlement. As Alex and Monika had arrived, two farmers had been busy driving their sheep into pens for the evening.

As Monika had suggested, the accommodations of the inn were rather less than ordinary. Even the best room in the place seemed just a short step up from terrible. Alex was reminded of the time that they had stayed in Bravil. He suspected that Monika would have suggested camping by the roadside, if the weather had been warmer. They just made do with what was on hand.

On Sundas morning, they resumed their journey. Rather than following the main road all the way around the lake, they diverted along the lesser road just a short distance from Aleswell. That road wound downhill to the edge of Lake Rumare. There was a narrow bridge that crossed the waters to the City Isle. The last time that they passed that bridge was nearly three months ago. At that time, they were in a small boat passing under the bridge. They were on their way to complete that mission at Wellspring Grove.

The small road led from the north-western peninsular of the City Isle up toward the main gates of the city. It also passed the Legion trainee camp located upon the lower hills of that part of the island.

Alex had taken a good look at the encampment as they passed by. He had only previously seen it from a distance. That was the reason behind his curiosity. Still, it wasn't much to look at. There were only a couple of permanent structures there. It seemed that the rows of tents were used for the trainees. Off to one side of the camp, there were a few small crop fields.

A Legion soldier was busy watching over a group of about twenty recruits as they trained. No one paid any attention to the two travellers passing by along the road.

Alex and Monika continued onward until they passed the stabling facilities outside the city walls and then reached the main city gates.

It was later in the morning as they entered the Imperial City. The Talos Plaza District of the city appeared as busy as any other Sundas. People wandered this way and that. The greater concentration of people was about the plaza at the centre of the district. A few children dashed through the streets, as they generally did. Dodging an enthusiastic beggar, Monika and Alex made their way directly toward the eastern side of the district. The Arcane University was located across the far side of the city. They intended to take the most direct route.

Passing through the gated doors of the eastern wall, they entered the central district of the city, known as The Green Emperor Way. Although he had seen the White-Gold Tower up close several times just three months earlier, the sight of it still made a suitable impression upon Alex. The base of the structure fully dominated the centre of that district and the tower loomed high into the sky above. The open green space between the central structure and the outer walls was a marked contrast against the gray stone.

From where they had entered The Green Emperor Way, they could see the armoured palace guards that stood by the large ornate doors of the entrance of the tower. However, that was not their destination. Alex and Monika cut across the grassy area to the south. Statues, gravestones and mausoleums punctuated the open green space. Aside from the tower itself, the rest of that district was open to the general public. A few children played in the shade of one of the trees. One of the regular city guards was keeping a watchful eye to ensure that the children caused no trouble.

Monika and Alex walked around the outer area until they reached the gated doors at the south-eastern section of that district's wall. They then passed through into the Arboretum District. Being a Sundas, the gardens of the arboretum were just a little crowded with all the people wandering the open area. The statues that represented each of the Nine Divines lined the circular path. The statue of Talos stood at the exact centre of the open space. Alex and Monika made their way directly across to the gated door at the far side.

The doorway through the stone walls led them outside the city. The Arcane University was contained within in its own stone walls. Those walls were not nearly as tall as those of the main city, but still impressive enough. The spire of the mage's tower rose up from the centre of the university grounds. Again, it was no where near as grand as the White-Gold Tower, but it dominated the university.

They crossed the stone bridge that traversed the deep gully between the walls of the city and those of the university. Alex had just noticed that he could see Wellspring Grove Island from that bridge. He was just a little surprised that he hadn't previously realised how close the island was to that location. He held no fond memories of that place. A number of their comrades had died there, and they had only barely survived the experience themselves. He had idly wondered what had become of Forester since that time.

Inside the grounds of the Arcane University, they descended the stone steps from the entrance. Alex had given a wide berth to those purple flames that arose from the stone cauldrons near the base of the steps. The last time that he visited that place, those flames had leapt out at him. They did not burn, but they seemed attracted to him. They had speculated that it had something to do with Alex's inherited ability. Although that ability had since become dormant or lost, Alex did not want to test the flames. He was actually a little worried of a different effect since he had been affected by ancient elven magicks.

Monika and Alex proceeded directly to the main office of the Arcane University just inside the base of the tower. After presenting their papers, they were kept waiting at that location until someone had found Moorcroft and brought him to the office.

The Synod mage was not exactly what they had expected. He seemed rather less than impressive. Moorcroft was a diminutive and elderly Breton man with just a thin wisp of white hair. His hands were shaking as he took possession of the delivery. Moorcroft had instructed the office attendant to handle the paperwork and payment before shuffling off to parts unknown.

With the contracted task attended and payment received, Monika and Alex departed the Arcane University. They had not learned anything about the Daedric weapon they had delivered, but then they hadn't really expected any different. They made their way back to the main city. Alex had kept pace with Monika as she walked briskly back across the Arboretum District and into the central district of the city. It was more than an hour past midday by that time. Nearly half way across The Green Emperor Way, Monika had suddenly stopped.

Alex wondered what might be wrong. "What is it?"

Monika looked across the central district toward the northern wall. "I'm hungry. What about you?"

"I thought we were headed for the Wawnet Inn?"

"Yeah, but…" Monika trailed off.

"I am a little hungry." Alex conceded.

Monika smiled and gestured toward the far side of the district. "Come on. Let's head over to the Market District."

"Okay." Alex fell into step with her.

The Market District of the Imperial City was still quite busy and crowded even though it was coming up on two hours past midday. The usual broad mix of people moved through the streets of the marketplace. The greater number appeared to be Imperials, Bretons, or Nords, or possibly some mix of those heritages. Each of the other races also seemed to be notably represented. There were several darker skinned Redguards and a few Orsimer. Though fewer in number, there were a smattering of Altmer, Bosmer and Dunmer. A pair of Khajiit operated a stall that offered jewellery, trinkets and the like. The only Argonian in sight was involved in a heated discussion with an elderly Dunmer woman. A city guard appeared to be mediating the dispute.

Monika and Alex passed through the central crossroads of the marketplace and headed for the open stalls that lined the northern side of the main street. They each purchased something light to eat from a street vendor and they paused to stand by the statue of one of the old emperors of a past era.

Alex had been considering how mild and pleasant the weather seemed. He recalled standing in that same place during the peak of Sun's Height. At the time, he could not remember having previously experienced such hot days. Even the warmest summer days in Falkreath were nothing like that.

Monika had just finished her food and reached for her flask. "That's much better."

Alex was still finishing his last bite as he responded. "Mmm, yes." He paused. "Are we still going to the Wawnet Inn?"

Monika glanced up at the sun, gauging the time. "Yeah, we should probably head off. Come on."

Alex was still fumbling with his water flask as Monika took a few steps, then stopped to wait for him.

As they headed along the main street of the marketplace, a hooded beggar had accosted them. He had skilfully blocked their path through the crowd and commenced his routine. Alex's experience with that sort of thing remained limited. As Monika had previously instructed him, he avoided making eye contact with the beggar and deferred to her lead. Only because the beggar had so artfully blocked their path, Monika had dropped a coin into his hand. The beggar had thanked her for her generosity and brushed past Alex to find his next mark.

Just short of the gated doors to the Elven Gardens District, Alex had realised something out of place. He spoke with some surprise. "There is something inside my…" He was checking his pocket. "It looks like a note. It must have been that beggar."

Monika spoke quietly. "Just leave it."

Alex looked back with a slightly confused expression.

"Wait until we are out of here… out of the city." Monika settled.

Alex did as she said, but he was feeling rather uncomfortable over the matter. Not just about the note, but also the manner that it was placed upon his person. He had casually checked his other pockets as he walked. There didn't seem to be anything missing, as far as he could tell. He couldn't imagine any reason why a beggar would sneak a note into his pocket.

Monika and Alex proceeded directly into the Elven Gardens District. They moved along the broad thoroughfare past the residences of that district. It was far less crowded. There were just a few people about the central crossroads near the taverns. They continued onward into the Talos Plaza District. Those streets were less crowded than the marketplace, but still fairly active. They dodged past an eager beggar in the plaza on their way toward the main city gates. Monika seemed slightly annoyed. The behaviour of the beggar was to be expected, but Alex was drawing undue attention. He was eying the beggar and generally looking far more shifty than any potential pickpocket. Monika had taken his arm and firmly guided him toward the exit at the city walls.

They passed through the gates and proceeded directly along the main road from the city. Monika had been waiting until they were alone. She slowed and stopped about half way between the city gates and the stone bridge across the lake.

Monika turned to Alex. "Okay, then. What is it?" She was referring to the note.

Alex withdrew the note to examine it. He looked up with some surprise. "It is for you. It has your name on it."

"Let me see." She took the note from him and unfolded it. Her brows furrowed as she read the words.

After a moment, Alex prompted her. "What it is about?"

Monika hesitated a moment, before responding distractedly. "It seems… it seems to be from the Prince." She was reading over the note for a second time.

"From Treb?" Alex was waiting for her to continue.

Monika summarised the content. "He ah… he mentions recent dealings with Skingrad." She paused briefly. "He says I should expect to find that my status has been restored with the Skingrad Fighter's Guild office." She looked up to Alex. "That seems to be the general idea of it."

Alex knew that Monika had been previously banned from working at Skingrad, but he still held no idea of the details. "Why would Treb use a beggar to send a note?"

She gave him a withering look. "It wouldn't have been a beggar. He was probably Penitus Oculatus or something like that."

"I suppose so." Alex agreed.

"A better question, is why would he even send the note?"

"Well, he is our friend."

"He might be friendly… but he is still the Crown Prince of the Empire."

"We did help save his Empire. His father's Empire, I mean."

Monika shook her head. "Come on, let's keep moving."

Alex fell into step. He could tell that Monika wasn't in the mood to discuss her thoughts and he chose to remain silent.

Monika wasn't really so annoyed at receiving further favour from Attrebus. In fact, she suspected that the Lady Annaïg had something to do with it. She was more concerned that it seemed that their movements were still being watched in some fashion.

It seemed to be the quiet part of the afternoon on the roads outside the city. They passed only one person on the bridge. A small farmer's wagon was passing through Weye outbound and a pair of Legion soldiers rode their horses slowly along the road just nearby. The open stall by the fishermen's house was unattended. The small stabling facility across the road from the inn was also vacant.

Monika and Alex proceeded up the road that ran through the middle of Weye until they reached the door of the Wawnet Inn, then stepped inside. They passed through the familiar entryway into the gloomy tavern area. There seemed to be just the one patron inside. It was the old drunkard in the far corner. He was often there during the afternoons. Turning left toward the service bar, an unfamiliar circumstance greeted them. The old fisherman's wife, Flaenia was standing behind the bar.

Monika was surprised. "Where's Julia?"

Flaenia smiled and leaned forward on the bar. "Oh, hello dear. I'm just helping out Nerussa until… Well, it's not for me to say."

"Is that Monika?" A frail voice called out from the hall behind the bar area.

"Yes, Nerussa." Flaenia returned.

Monika shifted her gaze from Flaenia toward the back, then moved to the end of the bar. Alex followed a few steps behind. The very elderly Altmer woman slowly emerged from the back and found the end of the bar with her hands.

"Hello, Nerussa." Monika announced her presence.

Nerussa shuffled up close, peering through her near useless eyes. "Monika. You are well?" She reached out to find Monika's arm.

"Yes, Nerussa." Monika affirmed. "And you?"

"I'm well enough." Nerussa waved her arm outward. "Alex is still with you?"

Alex stepped forward so that she could find him. "I am here, Nerussa. I am well also."

"Good, good." Nerussa's firm grip found Alex's arm.

Monika raised the obvious questions. "What's going on? Where's Julia?"

"Gone." Nerussa responded in a tone that reflected her annoyance.

"Gone?" Monika repeated with surprise. The younger Imperial woman had worked for Nerussa for as long as Monika had been back in Cyrodiil.

Nerussa seemed to stare at Monika. "Yes, gone. The ungrateful wench just up and left for Leyawiin. Good riddance, too. I'd just about had enough of her smart mouth."

Monika started to speak. "But…"

"Nothing to worry about." Nerussa insisted. "Flaenia has been good enough to help out for a few days."

"But…" Monika tried to interrupt again.

"Everything is in hand." Nerussa asserted. "I have a young fellow starting tomorrow morning. One of the boys from the Kvinchal family. His parents are honest workers."

Monika recalled that were several people by that name in the city. A number of them were dock-workers down at the waterfront. She thought an Imperial woman in the marketplace was also a Kvinchal. "But if…"

Nerussa held up her hand, cutting off Monika again. "Don't you worry about anything. I have been running this inn since before I knew your mother."

Monika acquiesced. "Yes, Nerussa."

"I'll whip the boy into shape." Nerussa said firmly. "It's not like a Kvinchal boy will run off to Leyawiin."

"Yes, Nerussa." Monika agreed.

"Now, I hope you are both staying here tonight?" Nerussa shifted her pale gaze between Monika and Alex's approximate position.

Monika answered. "Yes, Nerussa. We have just come from the city." She paused in response to a subtle expression upon Nerussa's face. "We just needed to make a delivery to the Arcane University."

Nerussa made a tutting sound of disapproval. "You're not involved in that business with the Synod, are you?"

"What do you mean?" Monika asked innocently.

"I've heard what's going on." Nerussa tutted again. "They have every fool and adventurer running about the countryside looking for some old Daedric artefact. They don't even know what it is."

Monika tried to sound reassuring. "No, not that. We heard about it, but we're not involved in looking for it." She paused. "We've been up north. We visited Alex's homeland."

Nerussa's expression softened. A subtle smile formed. "You should put your stuff away in your room. Then, you both come back down and tell me all about what you've been up to these past few weeks."

"Yes, Nerussa." Monika agreed.

Alex followed Monika upstairs to the room that had been set aside for them.

* * *

Around the middle of Sundas afternoon, Forester and Suvaris travelled along the rocky hills above the Rugdumph Estate, several leagues north of Cheydinhal. The tracks they had been following had earlier taken them to the small road that led to the lands of the Lady Rugdumph. Before reaching that location, the trail again left the road and headed into the hills just to the west.

Not all that far from the road, they found the carcass of a huge bear. The wounds upon its body indicated that it had been killed by a number of different weapons. It seemed that it had been there no more than a day. No other animals had yet found the carcass. From the tracks upon the ground, it seemed obvious that the Vigilants had killed it.

Although the bears further south would still be fully active, Forester had thought that those of the northern highlands might be seeking caves or hollows to sleep away the winter months. Suvaris had advised him that there was at least another month before that was the case. His expression indicated that they should remain mindful.

The tracks led further northward. It was growing notably cooler as they headed into the high country. There were a few patches of unmelted snow here and there in the shadows of bushes and trees. Forester had turned to gaze at the settlement below the hills. The main feature was a large mansion. There were a few other structures surrounding the main building and a number of crop fields. Rugdumph sounded like an Orsimer name. He was mildly curious of what kind of Orc would hold a noble title and live in a place like that.

They continued onward in silence for a while. The trail took them west for a short distance, then turned back toward the east. It seemed as though the Vigilants may not have been certain of their path. They had spotted another bear in the distance at one point. It was too far away to be of any great concern.

As they traversed an open hillside with a clear view for a good distance, Forester had given voice to an idle thought. "Suvaris, I am curious about something."

Suvaris merely returned a short glance to indicate his attention.

Forester continued. "You must hold… an eighth rank in the Guild?"

Suvaris kept his eyes upon the trail. "Yes, eighth. For a while, now."

Forester had held seventh rank for some time. "You have been a resident of Cheydinhal for quite a while, haven't you?"

"Yes, since I left Morrowind."

Forester knew that Suvaris had left the south of Morrowind many years ago, during the Argonian invasion. He had been amongst those Dunmer that escaped the advancing armies and fled into Cyrodiil. "I suppose that I am a little curious that you are not in charge of the Guildhall in Cheydinhal."

Suvaris glanced to Forester, just briefly. His expression revealed no indication of his thoughts. "I have no interest in such a position."

Forester let the matter drop. He looked toward the mountains above. They seemed much closer. In fact, the hills that they climbed had become far more mountainous. He also turned to gauge the position of sun in the west. It seemed that they were likely to run out of daylight before reaching any obvious destination. He chose to remain silent for a short while.

After a short period, Forester spoke up again. "Are you certain that you don't know what's ahead."

Suvaris' expression remained inscrutable. "There's a lesser road just ahead. It leads through the mountains to two paths. One way heads southward to Bruma and the other, northward into Skyrim. I understand that the Temple of the Ancestor Moths is somewhere about the base of the mountains, but I'm not sure where." He paused a moment. "Also, there is rumour of a Daedric shrine somewhere in the area."

Forester's expression did not hide his annoyance. "A Daedric shrine." His tone reflected the accusation that Suvaris might have known all along.

Suvaris maintained an even tone. "I didn't really anticipate going this far."

"To which Daedric lord?"

"Azura." Suvaris offered.

"So, where is this shrine?"

Suvaris glared at Forester. "I do not know." Although he did not make mention of it, the implication was clear enough. He was warding off the notion that a Dunmer would be likely to know of the location of a shrine to Azura.

"That's not at all what I meant." Forester clarified. "I merely assumed that you know this area well enough to know where it is."

Suvaris sighed, returning to his more usual measured tone. "Not that well. I've heard it's supposed to be somewhere in this area, but I've never seen it. Besides, we don't know for certain that the shrine is the destination."

Forester did not respond, even though he had reasonably decided that they probably were headed for that Daedric shrine, wherever it was. A silence fell between them as they continued to follow the trail.

That far north, the tracks had become far easier to follow. Much of the ground was covered with unmelted snow and no fresh falls had occurred in the past day or so. They climbed further into the mountainous terrain. The trail had led them up a lesser mountain just below the range of the Jerall Mountains. Upon the side of that mountain, they came across the remains of dead minotaur on the ground. It was evident that the creature had been dead at least a day. It was obvious that wolves had fed upon the carcass, but it was also apparent that the wolves had not killed it. Wounds upon the carcass indicated that it had been killed by blade. From the tracks in the snow, there was little doubt that the Vigilants had killed the minotaur. The wolves had apparently left the area some time ago. Nonetheless, both Forester and Suvaris kept alert for any sign of danger.

It was near to dusk as Forester and Suvaris finally caught sight of the Daedric shrine to Azura. The statue was just as tall as the one of Vaermina that they had visited just two days before, but the terrain served to obscure view of the shrine until they were almost on top of it.

Given what they had seen on Fredas, they were not at all surprised at what they found. The shrine had been desecrated in much the same fashion. The snow was stained with the blood of the dead. A pile of bodies had been burned near the base of the statue, though not as well burned as the previous ones. Just as before, the work had been signed in blood across the base of the shrine.

Forester spoke first. "Well, it seems that your friends have been busy."

Suvaris glanced only briefly to Forester in response to the comment.

Forester examined the obvious tracks leading away from the site. "Looks like they headed north or north-west from here."

"Looks like." Suvaris agreed.

"So…?" Forester prompted.

Suvaris gazed off to the north, but didn't say anything.

Forester pressed again. "Are you planning to follow them."

Suvaris turned back toward Forester, then looked back down over the remains of the burnt corpses. "No."

"What then?"

"We should head back." Suvaris resolved.

"It will be rather late."

"Yes, it will. We should move quickly."

After just another quick look around, Suvaris and Forester headed back the way they had come. They moved at a brisk pace, but kept alert for possible dangers. The light was fading fast and neither of the moons had yet risen. The white snow upon the ground actually made things just a little easier. It was the shadows that drew greater attention. More than once, a suspicious looking shadow had raised concern, only to turn out to be nothing at all.

They had continued onward in relative silence until they had neared the Rugdumph Estate. By that time, Masser had risen above the horizon and Secunda was also just beginning to emerge. The moonlight improved matters notably.

Rather than exactly retracing their outbound path, they headed for the road by the Rugdumph Estate. It would lead them directly back to Cheydinhal.

Once upon the road, Forester's mind had eased somewhat. He gave voice to his thoughts. "What do think will de done?"

"What do you mean?" Suvaris kept his eyes upon the road ahead.

"About the Vigilants of Stendarr, of course."

"I don't know. It's not for me to decide."

"Of course." Forester agreed evenly. "Still, I imagine that you must have some sort of opinion on the matter."

"Some." Suvaris kept his response brief.

Forester offered some of his own observations. "At the moment, they are only attacking vampires and obvious Daedra worshippers. I begin to wonder what might happen once they run out of such obvious targets."

Suvaris had glanced toward Forester. His expression was obscured in the dim lighting. After a pause, he spoke. "I cannot speak for the Synod, or the Penitus Oculatus, or whoever stands to make such decisions. I can only imagine two likely outcomes." He allowed a moment to pass. "Either someone will decide that the Vigilants of Stendarr should be shut down…" He didn't immediately complete the statement.

Forester prompted him to continue. "Or?"

Suvaris turned his head only briefly, before returning his gaze forward. "Or perhaps some effort might be made to legitimise the movement. If they answered to the Synod, or the Emperor… or someone… then I expect that some measure of control might be placed upon their activities."

Forester digested those suggestions. "I'm not certain of which I'd prefer."

"It's not for either of us to decide." Suvaris commented.

After a short silence, Forester spoke again. "What will you do now?"

Suvaris kept his eyes upon the road. "Return to Cheydinhal and sleep."

"Of course. I was referring to tomorrow."

"I know what you meant." Suvaris suggested. "I suppose that I will return to the Imperial City and report what I have observed."

"I am planning to leave Cheydinhal in the morning." Forester reminded him of his intentions.

Suvaris understood the suggestion. "I ride out at dawn."

"Very good, then."

Both men fell silent as they marched back toward the city. It was late in the evening by the time that they arrived at the eastern gates of Cheydinhal. Suvaris returned to the Fighter's Guild and Forester retired to his room at the inn for one last night. Forester knew that he'd have no trouble at all falling asleep.

~O~


	12. Chapter 12

Evening Star

Greg J Miller

~O~

Chapter 12

Morndas the 16th of Frostfall 4E48

The morning light came in through the window of the upstairs room at the Wawnet Inn. Alex had stirred first. He had turned to see that Monika was still sleeping soundly. He tried to get up without waking her and then sought out the chamber pot.

He felt vaguely uncomfortable with the portrait of the former High Chancellor Ocato watching him. He reminded himself that the Altmer had been known as Potentate Ocato at the time of his assassination. Somehow, he thought it was better that it wasn't the portrait of a living ruler looking back at him. In the next room, it would have been Titus Mede watching him with his harsh stare. Although Alex knew Treb, after a fashion, he had not ever seen his father in person. Only from those images that he had seen and the manner of his rise to the position of Emperor, Alex imagined that Titus Mede must have been a harsh man.

Alex reached for the water flask and took a few sips. Monika was still sleeping. He gazed about the cramped but tidy room. He recalled Monika's protest at Nerussa setting aside the best room of the inn for when they were there. Nerussa had argued the point that the room was almost never taken. Most of the customers that actually stayed at the inn were passing traders and adventurers that were not heading into the city. Many would only take the very basic ground level rooms out the back near the bathrooms. Even if it weren't paid custom, at least the Ocato room would actually see some regular use.

Alex tried to look out the window to see outside. He heard Monika murmur as she stirred. She reached out with her hand, her eyes still closed. "Hmm… water?"

Alex brought the water flask to her, sitting back down upon the bed as he reached over. She opened one eye and took the water from him. After taking a few sips, she handed the flask back. Alex had shifted to get up again, but Monika had taken his arm, persuading him to stay.

"G'morning." Monika mumbled, snuggling her head up against his arm.

"Good morning." Alex returned softly.

"Mmm… should get up soon."

"Yes." Alex agreed mildly.

Monika seemed to have woken in a pleasant mood that morning.

The previous afternoon, they had spoken with Nerussa providing her with a brief account of their recent activities and some of the places they had visited. Of course, the journey up the mountain in Skyrim had been omitted from the discussion. After that discussion, Nerussa had rested as Monika and Alex sampled Flaenia's seafood broth. Shortly afterward, they had retired to their upstairs room. They had gone to bed quite early, but it was some time before they had actually gone to sleep.

After a few moments, Alex spoke again. "What should we do today?"

"We should probably start with getting up." Monika patted Alex on the arm and tried to find the will to leave the bed.

Alex didn't say anything. He was just thinking how Monika was always the first to rise whenever they had camped in the wilderness. However, when it came to a comfortable bed, it seemed to require some matter of urgency to motivate her.

Monika finally rolled over to sit at the far side of the bed and contemplated standing.

Alex got up and started to get dressed in his underclothes.

"I want to go downstairs and see Nerussa, this morning." Monika advised. "I should see the new barkeep she hired."

Alex glanced to Monika, but remained quiet.

"Yeah, I know Nerussa has everything in hand, but I think I should at least show some interest."

"Okay." Alex agreed amiably.

"I don't want to stay too long." Monika had stood and shuffled around to retrieve her pack from the far corner of the room.

"Are we heading out then?"

"Yeah. I'm thinking we should probably head back to Chorrol."

"Okay, then."

"If we get away early enough, we should make Fort Ash by nightfall. Then, back in Chorrol before tomorrow night."

"So… leathers?" Alex suggested, retrieving her leather armour from where he had hung it up the night before. He laid her leathers out across the bed.

"Yeah." Monika sounded distracted as she rummaged through her pack.

Alex continued to dress as Monika attended to immediate matters, then dressed herself. After running a comb through her own hair, she briefly fussed with Alex's increasingly unruly mane.

"Should we take our…?" Alex looked over their equipment.

"Nah, we'll come back for it. Come on, let's head downstairs."

* * *

Malcolm Forester had only barely managed to make it to the stables outside of Cheydinhal by dawn. He had slept heavily the previous evening after that long walk back from the Daedric shrine in the north. It required some force of will to rise that morning. He had hurriedly gathered his things and prepared himself, then rushed out of the inn to the stabling facilities outside the city by The Blue Road.

Alaron Suvaris was already standing there with his dark stallion and he appeared ready to go. He spoke calmly. "I was just beginning to wonder about you."

Suvaris appeared rather more fresh than Forester was feeling. Forester tried to sound more agreeable than he was feeling. "Well, it is only just dawn, right now."

Suvaris said nothing, only glancing toward the stable hand that he had roused in order to collect his horse. Forester understood the glance and hurried over to settle his account with the stables and collect his own mount.

After a few further moments, they were on the road. Forester was glad that they were headed westward. The bright morning sunlight seemed to hurt his eyes. He really could have done with a few more hours of sleep. He was thinking that he might be starting to feel the effects of aging. He was only just forty-two, but was feeling much older that morning. At that moment, he was also feeling just a little envious of his friend's Dunmer constitution.

They had passed a pair of slow moving Imperial riders just a short distance from the city. Although they were only riding their mounts at a moderate pace, the Imperial patrol moved far more slowly. Once they were out on the open road, Suvaris had decided to ride at a measured gallop for some distance.

Forester was mildly annoyed with the rushed timetable. Suvaris was again determined to make the Imperial City by evening. If Forester had been travelling on his own, he would have probably taken his time and stopped at the Roxey Inn for the night. That roadside inn was conveniently situated about halfway along the journey. Nonetheless, he had agreed to travel with Suvaris and he would just have to keep to his schedule.

* * *

Monika and Alex had come down from upstairs into the tavern area of the Wawnet Inn. It was still quite early. The new barkeep was already there and Nerussa was busy instructing him in exactly how she expected things to be done. Monika had taken that as a good sign. The lad had a sheaf of parchments upon the bar and was scratching down notes with a charcoal stick. That also seemed a good sign.

The Kvinchal boy looked as though he was not yet twenty. His lanky frame made him seem a little taller than the average Imperial. A mess of dark brown hair was tied off in a short ball at the back of his neck. A long nose dominated his features. A tuft of hair about his chin represented an attempt at a beard. He also might have been trying to grow a moustache, but it was a bit hard to tell. His brown eyes appeared sharp as he listened to Nerussa's instruction.

Nerussa had shifted her gaze toward Monika and Alex. She must have heard them coming down from upstairs and approaching the bar.

The young Imperial shifted his attention. "Fortis Kvinchal. How can I help you?"

Nerussa interrupted him as she peered over the bar at the two shapes. "Monika?"

"Yes, Nerussa." Monika confirmed.

"Fortis… this is Monika Northwind and Alex."

"Oh, yes. Nerussa told me." Fortis quickly wiped the charcoal from his fingers and reached over to take Monika's hand.

"Nerussa is the boss. I'm just uh… just part owner."

"Got it." Fortis shifted to offer his hand to Alex. "And you're Alex?"

Alex stepped forward to accept the greeting. "Yes, Alex Pinewatch. I am… just with Monika… in the Fighter's Guild."

"Got it." Fortis maintained a friendly expression. He looked back to Monika. "Can I get anything for you, this morning?"

Monika considered the empty feeling in her belly. "Yeah. Just a sweetbread and a grape juice… if you have it?"

Fortis glanced at Nerussa. She nodded slightly. "I think so. And for Alex?"

"The same." Alex responded, keeping it simple.

Fortis set out two trays with sweetbread and poured two mugs of juice. He remembered Nerussa's instructions with regard to Monika and Alex. "And that will be no charge, of course."

"Of course. Thank you Fortis." Monika offered a friendly smile.

Just then, someone had arrived at the front door of the inn. Two Legion soldiers made their way into the tavern area. They both looked as though they had been up all night as they approached the service bar. It was reasonable to presume that they had been out on evening patrol. Monika and Alex collected their trays and stepped away from the bar toward the nearest table. Nerussa watched on as Fortis served the two soldiers. She seemed to approve of the way Fortis handled the task.

Once the Legion soldiers had been served and had moved away for a table, Nerussa had made her way around the bar and sought out Monika. Even though she could barely see, she seemed to know exactly where everything was in the tavern. She took a chair to sit at the table with Monika and Alex.

"Fortis seems like he's up to the job." Monika suggested.

Alex nodded silently as he chewed on some sweetbread.

Nerussa suppressed the vague hint of a tight grin. "He seems like a good boy. Time will tell."

Monika started to make further suggestion. "If you need me to…"

Nerussa waved it off. "No, I can manage. I already have Flaenia dropping by again tonight. Fortis fancies himself a bit of a cook. So, Flaenia is going to show him a few things."

"Alright, then." Monika knew better than to argue with Nerussa.

Nerussa changed the subject. "So then, will you be staying another night?"

Monika shook her head. "We should be getting back to Chorrol."

Nerussa's expression remained neutral. She said nothing.

Monika continued. "Been more than a couple of weeks since we've been there. More than a month since we've done any work for that Guildhall."

Nerussa avoided expressing her opinion of Monika's decision to remain with the Fighter's Guild. It was already well known. "It's a bit late now to make that journey in one day."

"We'll stop at Fort Ash for the night." Monika advised.

After a pause, Nerussa commented. "Good, good. No sense in being out on the road at night, if you don't need to."

"No." Monika's response was brief.

After a brief silence, Nerussa began to rise from her seat. "Well, then. You make sure you come and see me before you head off. Both of you."

"Yes Nerussa." Monika affirmed.

Alex echoed her response.

After finishing their food, Monika and Alex headed back upstairs to collect their belongings. Returning downstairs, they spoke briefly with Nerussa and made their farewells, before departing the inn.

Outside, the sun was already warming the morning air. A few light clouds drifted in the distance. It looked like another pleasant autumn day ahead.

Across the road from the inn, the young lad at the roughshod stabling facility tended the Legion horses. It almost seemed out of place that he was working. He was more often seen lazing in the corner or taking a nap.

A small farmer's wagon was just coming into Weye as Alex and Monika were headed outbound. The wagon would have been headed for the waterfront to meet with traders. Aside from small pushcarts, larger wagons and horses were not permitted within the main city walls.

Heading along The Red Ring Road toward The Black Road, a larger trader's wagon passed in the opposite direction and they also spotted a Legion Patrol up ahead. It seemed just a little busier upon the roads that Morndas morning. Provided that there was no trouble along the roads ahead, they expected to make Fort Ash by evening.

* * *

At about halfway along The Blue Road, Suvaris and Forester had slowed their ride to allow their mounts some rest. For about an hour, they had moved no faster than a brisk walking pace. It was not long before Suvaris had again urged that they proceed at a more energetic canter. That soon became more of a gallop. Forester's horse seemed a little less enthusiastic than Suvaris' stallion. Nevertheless, he managed not to fall too far behind.

Less than half a league short of the crossroads by the lake, they had spotted an Imperial patrol. Forester had caught up by that stage. Both of the Imperial soldiers were off their horses by the edge of the road. They appeared to be examining something in the grass by the roadside.

The two soldiers had looked up at the approaching riders. One of them had waved in their direction. Suvaris took it as a direction to stop. Accordingly, they slowed as they approached the soldiers. They came to a halt just short of the patrol. There was a body in the grass by the road where one soldier was standing.

Suvaris spoke first. "Trouble?"

The nearer soldier seemed to take measure of Forester and Suvaris.

"We're both Fighter's Guild." Forester offered.

The soldier appeared to take them at their word. "No trouble, now." He glanced toward the body. "Some crazed fool went wild when we came along."

"I think it's skooma." The younger soldier called out as he was examining the contents of a satchel.

"Makes sense." The older soldier mused with a grim expression. "I might have just taken him in, but didn't give us much choice. Bloody skooma addicts."

"Of course." Forester agreed.

"Where are you headed?" The soldier maintained a friendly tone.

Suvaris answered "The Imperial City."

The soldier glanced toward the south. "The roads should be clear enough as far as the Roxey Inn, but you never know. Best to stay on guard." He looked back toward the body in the grass.

Forester responded. "Of course. Always good advice."

The soldier took a step toward his comrade and the dead addict. "Well, this isn't your problem. Divines with you, then."

"And to you." Forester returned.

Suvaris and Forester resumed their journey. They were shortly upon the intersection of The Blue Road and The Red Ring Road. Turning westward, they continued onward around the lake. It was still early in the afternoon as they came upon the Roxey Inn. Forester had suggested that his horse was in need of a rest. Suvaris agreed without protest.

The Roxey Inn was situated along the northern side of the road. Lake Rumare was just out of view from the roadside, obscured by trees and a low hillside. The upper part of the walls of the Imperial City could be seen in the distance across the lake. Of course, the White-Gold Tower dominated that view. Tall trees shaded the immediate area about the inn and forested hills rose up steeply behind.

Suvaris and Forester had dismounted and led their horses over to the water trough by the well. A couple of Legion soldiers were resting upon the bench seats at the front of the inn. Their horses were tied at the open stabling shed over to the right of the main building.

Suvaris was old enough to remember when the Roxey Inn was no more than an old run down shack. The place had been renovated twice over the past twenty years. It was still rather ordinary when compared to the inns and taverns of the cities. However, the building extensions, relacquered exterior and rethatched roof made it far more presentable than it had previously been. It appeared far better equipped to service the requirements of passing travellers than it had been when he first saw the place all those years earlier.

A small Legion outpost had also been added some twenty years back. It was just a small building over to the left of the inn. No more than three or four soldiers could be accommodated, but it served to highlight the importance of that roadside location.

At Forester's gentle insistence, Suvaris agreed to get something to eat from the inn as the horses rested. They remained only long enough to wash down a light repast. Suvaris had only barely contained his impatience as he waited for Forester to finish. Someone else might not have noticed, but Forester had recognised it in the Dunmer's eyes and did his best to hurry things along.

They were soon back on the road and heading westward around the northern side of Lake Rumare. It was not long before Suvaris had again hastened their pace. Just a couple of leagues along, they passed the intersection with The Silver Road that led into the high country toward Bruma. A Legion patrol ambled along the road a little further along. The Red Ring Road followed a winding uphill path toward the village of Aleswell. Suvaris had only eased the pace somewhat as they passed through the settlement.

The light was beginning to fade by that time. The sun was only just above the western horizon. The Imperial City was only just across the lake from their location, but it would yet take some time to actually get there.

Forester had expected to continue onward around the lake, but Suvaris had suddenly turned off along the steep side road that made its way down toward the lake. Forester almost missed the turn. He was fully aware of the narrow bridge down there, but he normally preferred to stick to the main road.

It was still relatively early in the evening as Suvaris and Forester finally arrived at the stabling facilities outside the city walls. Forester had noticed that old man sitting out on the porch in front of the stable house. As usual, he was puffing away on his pipe as he watched the passers-by. Forester gave him a friendly nod as they walked by. He chuckled inwardly, thinking to himself. He thought that as long as that old man was sitting there on the porch, all must be right and normal with the world.

Suvaris and Forester passed through the main gates into the city. Just a short distance inside the Talos Plaza District, Forester had turned to Suvaris as they walked. "Where to, my friend?"

Without breaking stride, Suvaris returned a sideways glance. "I'm hoping to find accommodation at The King and Queen Tavern." He paused briefly. "I'll take a meal with you, but afterward… it's best we part ways."

Forester raised his eyebrows. "Well, of course. I wasn't planning to…"

Suvaris had shot him dark glare. He stopped by a support column near the side of the street. Forester also halted, wearing a surprised expression. Suvaris had waited a moment until no one was nearby, then spoke with his voice lowered. "Look, I appreciate your assistance over the last few days, but it's best that you don't speak of what we have seen. It's also best that we're not seen together too much."

Forester also kept his voice low. "Of course. I wasn't planning to accompany you to the university."

"I won't be going to the university."

"But you said…"

"I lied. I don't usually meet with anyone there. They prefer to meet… elsewhere."

Forester cleared his throat. "I understand. Say no more."

They continued onward in silence into the Elven Gardens District and then to The King and Queen Tavern near the central crossroads. Suvaris had secured lodgings for himself before they sat down to an evening meal. Their conversation remained quiet and subdued as they ate. Once they were done, Forester had wished his friend luck and then departed the tavern.

Forester didn't go far. He went directly to the Elven Gardens Boarding House across the other side of the central crossroads. Provided that accommodations were available, it was the place that he generally stayed when in the city. He saw no pressing need to do any different upon that occasion. As usual, he had no trouble getting a room.

Approaching the stairs to the upstairs rooms, Forester was greeted by the familiar portrait of an elderly Imperial man with a baldpate. The painting depicted a former owner of the establishment. The name of the place had changed since the time of that man in the painting and the ownership had changed twice. Still, the portrait had remained in place for years. At least as long as Forester could remember.

After visiting the communal bathroom on the upper floor, Forester retired to his rented room. Settling into his room, he considered some of the things he had seen over the last few days. Although Suvaris had encouraged him to leave it alone, he wasn't feeling perfectly comfortable with that advice.

He began to wonder about the Vigilants of Stendarr that might be operating out of Kvatch. His estranged son and former wife lived in that city. He considered that it might be something that he should look into. Knowing what he now knew, it wasn't as though he could just forget about it.

After the less than satisfactory rest of the previous night and the long day of travel from Cheydinhal, he was suitably tired. However, he found it annoyingly difficult to surrender to the call of sleep. His mind continued to wander over what he might do over the coming days. At some point, he had eventually drifted off to a fitful night of sleep.

* * *

Fadren Verelas sat in the corner of the tavern of the only inn at Helgen. He had only arrived at that place just little earlier that evening. He was not feeling particularly tired or fatigued. Rather than walking the previous leg of his journey, he had just passed a long day in the back of the wagon. He had paid for passage on a trade wagon travelling from Riften to Falkreath. It was convenient that Helgen was one of the stops along the way. Especially since he had learned that it was near to a road that led southward into Cyrodiil.

Six days had passed since Fadren had been in Windhelm. Travelling on foot out of that city, he had only stopped twice between Windhelm and Riften. The first time had been at the settlement of Kynesgrove. That place was familiar to him. Everywhere south of that location had been previously unknown to him. He had stopped at another small mining settlement along the road to Riften.

After nearly five days of southbound travel, Fadren had arrived at the city of Riften during the latter part of the previous morning. His first view of that southern city was of its stone walls. He had noted that the city walls were nowhere near as tall as those of Windhelm or Solitude. Climbing the hill along the final stretch up to the city walls, he had observed a broad lake stretching away from the city to the west. He had not expected to see so much water that far from the northern seas.

At the gates to the city, the guards had checked his papers, but didn't seem particular interested. They had allowed him to pass without any interrogation.

Once inside the walls, Fadren had tried to imagine the overall size of the place. It didn't seem quite as large those two big cities of the north, but not a great deal smaller. It was certainly much larger than the port city of Dawnstar.

There was quite a bit of old stonework used inside the city walls. However, it seemed that timber was the dominant construction material throughout much of the city.

Fadren had noticed that the broad lake to the west of the city seemed to intrude beneath the middle of the city. It seemed that some portion of the city was built upon a timber framework that elevated a series of platforms and walkways to match the surrounding land. A look over the side of one of the walkways informed him that more of the city was located beneath his feet. He began to revise his estimate of the overall size of the city.

It came as no surprise to Fadren that most of the people of Riften were Nords. After all, even that far south, he was still in Skyrim. He did spot just a few Imperials on the streets and some of the other races also seemed represented. Fadren was just a little surprised that quite a few Dunmer wandered about the streets. There were even some Argonians running a stall at the marketplace. He could see no clear indication of the kind of the segregation that existed in Windhelm.

Peering through a space in the buildings along the western side of the city, Fadren could see some docks and buildings set upon stilts in the waters of the lake just outside the main city. There were a number of small fishing boats at the docks. He already noted the fishmongers in the marketplace. It seemed that fishing was an important part of local industry. Being so far from the sea, that had surprised him just a little at first. However, that was just because he had not expected such a large lake in the south of Skyrim.

After completing a short walk about the centre of the city, Fadren found a convenient tavern. Inside, he had soon learned that Dunmer were just as welcome as anybody else with the coin to spend.

The barkeep was an elderly Nord woman with a friendly disposition. She remained quite talkative as long he was buying. Ordinarily, he might have found that more irritating, but he needed to learn a little of where he was going.

Speaking with the barkeep, Fadren had learned of the regular trade wagons that travelled the road out of Riften bound for Falkreath in the west. He also learned of the town called Helgen and the nearby pass through the mountains that led into Cyrodiil.

The old woman had been quite certain that a westbound trade wagon would be leaving the next morning and she told Fadren who to see about booking passage for travel. Since she had been so helpful, he had decided upon staying in that inn for the evening. After securing lodgings for the evening, he headed off to arrange travel for the next day.

According to his intentions, Fadren had stayed in Riften for just the one night. Early the next morning, he sat in the back of a trade wagon as it set off along the road to Falkreath. At the end of a long day, he had finally arrived at the small township of Helgen.

Since he still needed to delay leaving Skyrim for another day, he had gone directly to that inn in Helgen and arranged to stay there for the evening. From the innkeeper at Helgen, Fadren had learned that a wagon headed south had just left earlier that day. There wasn't another expected until the end of the week. The innkeeper had also confirmed what he had previously heard about Pale Pass and the road through mountains leading to the city in northern Cyrodiil called Bruma. The innkeeper had advised against travelling the southern road on foot, but Fadren remained undeterred.

Before retiring to his room, Fadren had taken a meal and sat back with a drink as he considered what lay ahead. The next morning, Fadren would rise early and begin the journey toward the border crossing at Pale Pass. He remained uncertain of exactly how long it would take to reach that city in the north of Cyrodiil. At best, he imagined that it would probably take two days. He reasonably expected that the ten days he was required to wait would pass before he reached the border crossing in the mountains. Once he had reached that city called Bruma, he could begin to look into making his way toward Skingrad. He had no real idea of where it was or what he should do once he arrived there, but he trusted that it would all become clear at the proper time.

~O~


	13. Chapter 13

Evening Star

Greg J Miller

~O~

Chapter 13

Middas the 18th of Frostfall 4E48

The sun wasn't even up yet. It was at least an hour before dawn as Malcolm Forester departed the Imperial City. The light cast by the two moons looming low in the western skies competed with the early glow of the coming dawn at his back. Looking down over the stone bridge across the lake ahead, he noticed that several of the equally spaced oil burners along the walls of the bridge had already gone out. Aside from the guards at the city gates, there was no one else about at that time of the morning. Not even the old man that sat out the front of the stable house was up yet.

Forester was soon marching across the bridge toward the village of Weye and idly going over his thoughts. He was once again considering the past few days and his plans for the next few.

He had slept rather late the previous day. He felt notably better after taking the time for some proper rest. Before going anywhere that morning, he had taken the time to properly trim his moustache and goatee beard. The increasing number of gray hairs that he noticed had vaguely irritated him. Nonetheless, the perfectly executed close shave of the exposed parts of his face provided him with some sense of satisfaction.

Afterward, he had taken a casual walk through part of the city during the day. He thought that he might cross paths with Suvaris, but that had not occurred. He had idly wondered whether his Dunmer friend had actively avoided him. Forester probably could have found him if he really wanted to, but decided to leave it alone.

During the later part of the afternoon, he had visited the stabling facilities outside the walls of the City. After a brief discussion with the master of the stables, he had managed to sell that horse that he had never wanted in the first place. As he had fully expected, the horse had ended up costing him rather more than it was worth. There was hardly any bargain in the transaction, but he managed to acquire a fair price and settle his account with the stables.

Eventually, Forester had returned to the Elven Gardens Boarding House. After taking an early meal, he returned to his room to settle in for an early evening.

For the most part, he had decided upon his next course of action. He would firstly head back to Skingrad. More than two weeks had passed since he had been back there. He intended to check in with the local Guildhall and attend to any immediate matters that required his attention. If nothing else arose, he planned to direct further attention toward making his way further westward to Kvatch.

Forester imagined that if he had again spoken with Suvaris, his friend would have advised against looking into the activities of the Vigilants of Stendarr operating out of Kvatch. In general, that would certainly have been the best of advice. However, with Raesa and Mattias living within the walls of that city, none of it sat too well with him. He recalled something he had said when he had been discussing the matter of the Vigilants of Cheydinhal with Suvaris. He had posed the question of what might happen once those Vigilants had run out vampires and Daedra worshippers. He was reminded of that old proverb; that one about the cure sometimes being worse than the disease.

It had also occurred to him that the Synod might well have already contracted someone to surreptitiously observe the activities of the Vigilants around Kvatch, just as they had done with Suvaris. In fact, he expected it was more likely than not. Still, he wondered if it actually was the Synod that Suvaris was dealing with. He would not be surprised to learn that the Penitus Oculatus were involved. He might be more surprised if they were not.

Forester tried to shift his thoughts toward something else for a while, but nothing immediately came to mind. He expected that he would have plenty of time to think about things that day. It was a lengthy march to Skingrad along The Gold Road. In all likelihood, it would be quite dark by the time that the lights of the city came into view.

* * *

"Finally." Ras'Dar mumbled to himself.

He had just taken down a deer with his hunting bow by that small lake just west of Riverhold. He rushed over to finish the kill with his long dagger. It was only a smaller deer, but it was a deer nonetheless. The young Khajiit found it difficult to recall the last time that the hunting had been so poor. Up until a few moments before, all he had to show for the past few days was two foxes, a rabbit and a ground pheasant. That deer would finally make it seem worthwhile. At least a bit more worthwhile than it would have otherwise been.

Ras'Dar had been hunting in the area for several days. He had been back to that small lake each morning and each morning he had been disappointed. He had gone all around the back of Tardorn Wood searching for game. Aside from those lesser kills that he had taken, the only other target that he had spotted was a large bear. It wasn't just a large bear. It was a monstrously huge bear. He wasn't bold enough to try taking it on his own. It might have been different if someone was with him. However, Ras'Dar was alone. He did his best to steer well clear of the huge beast and kept a wary eye to be certain that it didn't spot him.

Ras'Dar examined the young deer that he'd killed. He briefly considered cleaning and skinning the carcass, but decided against it. The deer was just small enough that he could carry it across his shoulders if he left it intact. He decided that he would gather what he had and head back to Riverwood. He planned to take whatever amount of coin he could gain from he had to trade. Considering the amount of effort involved, he was not all that happy over what he was likely to get for it.

Once he was done with trading the product of his hunt, Ras'Dar intended to go visit those Imperial Legion soldiers at their barracks. He wanted to make certain that they knew he was readily available. They had told him that there might be something going by the end of the week. He really hoped that those Legion soldiers would have some easy work for him.

* * *

Monika and Alex had arrived at Chorrol rather late the previous afternoon, perhaps only about an hour before dark. The days were growing notably shorter with the approach of winter. They might have reached their destination a little earlier if they had not left the Fort Ash settlement so late, but it hadn't really mattered so much.

The march from Fort Ash had passed without incident. After passing through the southern gates into the walls of Chorrol, they headed directly for the Oak and Crosier Inn. Since they had plenty of gold, it remained the place that they preferred to stay. It was more comfortable and more private than staying at the Guildhall.

The inn was just beginning to become busy as they arrived. After another hour or two, the tavern area would soon seem crowded and bustling. Alex and Monika had quickly secured accommodation and ordered some food before the activity of the tavern became any more boisterous. After finishing their meals, they made use of the downstairs bathroom facilities, then retired for the evening to their rented room beneath the main tavern floor.

Shortly after the bells from the temple had marked the start of the working day for some, Monika and Alex had come up from their downstairs room into the main tavern area of the inn. Lyra, the barkeeper's wife was busy serving a couple of morning patrons from behind the main bar.

Monika and Alex were headed for the front door of the inn when they heard a male voice call out. "Hey, Monika." It was the burly Colovian barkeep, Thomas. He put aside the crate he was shifting and head straight over to them.

"Thomas." Monika responded with a light smile.

Thomas wiped the dust from his hands, soiling his apron. "Didn't get a chance to talk last night. I meant to tell you something."

Monika looked back with curiosity. "What's that?"

"It was a couple of weeks back." Thomas started. "There was someone from the Fighter's Guild staying here. He was asking about you two. Imperial. Bit of a beard. Forest?"

"Forester?" Alex suggested.

"Yeah. That sounds right. Forester." Thomas agreed.

"Yeah, we know him." Monika confirmed. "What did he want?"

"He was here just a couple of days." Thomas was trying recall. "I think he just wanted to catch up with you. Said I'd let know, next time I saw you."

"Thanks Thom." Monika responded. "We're headed out."

"Alright, then. You have yourselves a good day out there." Thomas offered a friendly grin before shifting to return to his work.

"You too, Thom." Monika returned.

Monika and Alex emerged onto the streets of Chorrol. It was only a little crowded at that time of the morning. They made their way up the main street toward the northern end of the city. The central plaza around the big oak tree was easily passable. By around midday, that area would be near filled to bursting with townspeople.

The Fighter's Guild was just a short distance from the northern city gates. They went directly inside the Guildhall. Just as they were coming in the front door, two others were going out the back door. It looked like Montrose and the new recruit. From the look of it, they were probably headed out the back for some training.

Almost immediately, the Guildhall's porter had appeared to intercept them. Monika performed the usual annoying dance with Dale the Guild Porter. Alex stood back, chewing upon his lower lip and suppressing a smirk. He knew that Monika was stifling the urge to knock the pretentious young porter on his arse.

Once they had managed to get past the porter, they headed on up the stairs to the office. Just as they were informed, Karl gro-Baroth was sitting behind the large desk.

"Hey Karl." Monika called out as they climbed the steps to the raised office area.

The huge Orsimer looked up with a toothy grin. "Monika… and Alex. About time you two got back here." Karl tried affect a more serious expression, but the glint in his eyes indicated he was pleased to see them.

"I told you we might be a few weeks." Monika reminded him.

"Yeah. You did." Karl stood to take each of their arms in greeting.

"The boss is out again?" Monika suggested.

Karl grumbled. "Yeah. Ya missed him again. He took off just yesterday. That ain't nuthin' new."

"Anyone would think you were the head of the Guildhall." Monika teased.

"I got enough problems." Karl grumbled as he pushed about some of the paperwork on the desk. "You two finished wandering off?"

Monika answered. "Yeah. We're back in town. Have you got anything for us?"

Karl looked up briefly. "Maybe, in the next couple of days. Waiting on the go ahead."

"What's that?" Monika asked.

"Nuthin' special. A wolf problem." Karl seemed distracted. "I'll uh… I'll let ya know… when it's on the books."

"Nothing else?" Monika pressed.

Karl was shuffling through the mountains of paperwork looking for something. "Yeah, uh… yeah, uh… there's an open contract from the Synod…"

"We've heard about that one. Sounds like a waste of time."

"Yeah, probably…" Karl was still sifting through the papers. "Found it." Monika and Alex remained quiet as Karl produced what he was looking for. "A couple of letters arrived for you while you were gone."

Monika accepted the letters. Both were addressed to her, care of the Chorrol Fighter's Guild.

"I reckon one of 'em's from the Skingrad Guildhall." Karl offered. "We got a document sent here, saying that you're back in the good books over there. The boss is all fine with that."

"Yeah, I did hear something about it." Monika mentioned idly, as she examined the letters with her name of them.

"Oh yeah." Karl drew her attention. "There was some Imperial character from Skingrad in here a few weeks back. Had a bit of a beard."

"Forester?" Alex interjected.

"Yeah that's him." Karl confirmed. "Said he was from the Skingrad Guildhall. Said he knew the pair of ya."

Monika responded. "That's right. We know him. We already heard that he was in town when we were away. Did he say anything?"

Karl scratched his bushy brow. "Nah. He was just collecting a bounty. Asked about you two while he was here. Nothing else… as far I remember."

"Alright, then." Monika settled.

Something just occurred to Karl. "Hey, has this Forester got somethin' to do with the Skingrad thing? I thought he was just a regular Guild Fighter. Is he 'sposed to be someone important?"

"Dunno. Maybe." Monika left it at that. She hadn't told Karl anything about meeting Treb and Annaïg a few months back. It seemed a little too connected with other things that they weren't permitted to speak about.

Karl looked down over the mess that covered the desk. "Right, then. Make sure you check in later. Might know if that job is going ahead by then."

"Will do, Karl." Monika agreed.

Monika and Alex turned away to leave Karl to his paperwork. Even though Karl was only second in charge of the Guildhall, he effectively ran the whole thing most of the time. The boss was away more often than he was there. The head of the Chorrol Guildhall was actually the head of the entire Fighter's Guild in Cyrodiil. It was a fair call that Karl gro-Baroth didn't like to think too much about what that really meant as he went about his work.

As Alex and Monika reached the ground floor of the Guildhall, the Guild Porter was still conspicuously lurking about in plain sight. It had been months since Alex had first met Dale and he'd yet to have anything resembling a conversation with him. Nothing outside of the basics. Alex again considered that he didn't know anything at all about him. Only that Monika didn't like him.

Monika steered Alex toward the front door. "Come on. Might as well head out."

Alex just agreed. "Okay."

Just outside the Guildhall, Monika had unexpectedly stopped by the low stone fence in front of the building.

Alex thought they were going over to the College of Whispers. "Are we still going to see Florence?"

"Yeah. In a bit." Monika was fumbling with the letters that Karl handed to her. "I just… just want to check these… first." She leaned back against the fence and started reading one of the letters.

Alex decided to keep quiet and shifted position to also lean on the stone fence just to one side of her. Although he was a bit curious, he avoided looking at what she was reading.

After a moment, Monika spoke. "Yeah… it's just what I expected." She paused to check over something again. "Yeah, it goes on for a bit, but it just says I'm cleared to work out of Skingrad."

"How does that affect us?" Alex asked.

"Yeah, well… you could've gone to the Skingrad office any time you wanted." She spoke in a matter-of-fact tone. "Now, I can too… again." Monika offered a crooked grin.

Alex returned a similar expression. "What about the other one?"

"Other one?"

"The letter."

"It's from my mother."

"Are you going to read it? It might be important."

Monika hesitated. "Yeah, I suppose." She opened the letter to find it was nearly three parchments long. She took a few moments to quickly skim over it as Alex waited quietly. "Yeah, uh… yeah… nothing too important. Sounds like… like everyone is fine." Monika started to fold the parchments. "I'll read it properly a bit later." Monika turned back to Alex. "Let's head over to the College."

Alex just nodded his agreement.

The College of Whispers building was just a short distance over to the right. They headed straight over there and went inside the front door.

As was often the case, it was fairly quiet inside the front room of the building. A gaunt looking man cradling some potions was just leaving as Alex and Monika came in. An elderly Bosmer man carried a book as he shuffled toward the door that led upstairs. The short and stout Breton man stood behind the large counter near the back of the room.

"Hey, Samuel." Monika greeted the man at the main counter.

"Northwind." He replied with a friendly nod. "What can I do for you today?"

"We're hoping to see Florence, if she's available." Monika responded.

"I think she should be, as far as I know." Samuel indicated the doorway over to Monika's left.

Monika offered a subtle smile and thanked Samuel, then started off in the indicated direction with Alex following. Through the doorway was a smaller room with a lesser-sized counter. Behind the counter was a high set of shelves stacked with various arcane items. There were two other doorways in that room leading off both to the left and right. The door to the right was half closed, but to the left was only an open archway.

They paused a moment. It seemed like there was nobody there.

"Hello." Monika called out quietly.

"Oh, hello." The middle-aged Colovian woman in modest mages robes stood up from behind counter. "Oh, Monika. How are you?" The woman smiled.

"I'm good. How are you, Florence?" Monika returned the smile.

"I am quite well." Florence responded. "And Alex. How are you?"

"I am well enough." Alex offered.

"How long have you been back?" Florence inquired.

Monika answered. "Just got back last night."

Florence's expression shifted slightly. "Well then, is this just a friendly visit, or is there something I can do for you?"

Monika glanced to Alex just briefly. "Well, um… it's kind of private. Is there somewhere we can talk? Somewhere we won't be disturbed?"

Florence looked to both Monika and Alex. Alex seemed to maintain an earnest expression, but Monika seemed nervous. "We can go to my private quarters." She came out from behind the counter.

"Is that alright?" Monika's unease remained.

"Of course." Florence tried to sound reassuring. "I'll just let Samuel know that I don't want to be disturbed for a little while."

Florence went out to the front as Monika and Alex waited. After a short moment, she returned and led them into that adjacent room with the door, closing it behind them. She then directed them both to sit and brought over another chair to sit in front of them.

Florence paused to glance at both Monika and Alex in turn. "Now then, what's this all about?"

Monika continued to appear somewhat apprehensive. "I'm trusting you to keep this quiet…"

"Of course." Florence sounded sincere.

Monika composed herself. "Well, we can't tell you everything. Some of it is Imperial business… some of it… well, we're not permitted to speak of it."

"I understand." Florence blinked slowly. "Don't tell me anything you don't need to, or anything you shouldn't tell me."

"Well, it's about Alex." Monika said.

Florence looked at him briefly then turned back to Monika.

Monika went on to relate a rather abridged version of circumstances, omitting certain specific details. Without explaining the reasons behind it, she told Florence that Alex had destroyed an ancient Ayleid artefact. From what they had pieced together, the destruction of the artefact had released Elven Magicks that had affected Alex in some manner.

Florence had gazed at Alex with an expression of mild concern. "What kind of affectation?"

"Well, um…" Monika hesitated with a wary expression.

Alex spoke up. "We think that one of my distant forefather's might have been one the ancient Dragon Lords of Skyrim."

Florence paused to look at Alex. She considered what he said in silence.

Monika added something. "Do you remember those books that I looked at when Alex first came here with me?"

Florence nodded as she recalled. "Ah, yes. I remember that. Those books about the ancient Nords and the dragon legends." She looked again to Alex.

Alex spoke again, offering a brief version of how he had inherited that ability with the ancient Dragon Tongue from his grandfather. He explained that it had disappeared after his encounter with the ancient Ayleid artefact. He also related how they had tried to go to the monks at the mountain in Skyrim, but were turned away with a message.

"I suppose it makes some sort of sense." Florence paused. "I would have imagined that the magical forces wielded by the ancient Ayleids and the Dragon Lords would have been either complementary or contradictory. It seems to be the latter."

Both Alex and Monika remained silent.

Florence spoke again. "Do you mind if I examine you more thoroughly? I'd like to try a few things."

Alex nodded.

Florence had leaned forward to study Alex more closely. After a pause, she had quietly whispered a spell and waved her hands in front of him. Alex tensed as a sparkling mist wafted over him.

Florence seemed to study the result for a lengthy moment. "Hmm. Nothing obvious. Not that I can tell." After a short pause, she asked a question. "Have you noticed any change in your ability to use healing magic?"

Alex shook his head. "No. It seems to work fine."

"You don't use any other magic, do you?"

Alex shook his head again. "No. Nothing, except for that dragon thing… and that seems to be gone."

Florence considered him for a further moment. "I want to gather a few things from my office that might help." She went outside to the other room for a few moments as Alex and Monika again waited patiently.

Florence soon returned with large bowl full of miscellaneous objects. She firstly produced a large crystal. It looked a bit like a soul gem, only larger. She waved the crystal about Alex, then whispered a spell and waved the crystal about him again. Monika and Alex watched on quietly. After a moment, Florence tried another crystal with a different spell. If she had learned anything, it wasn't immediately obvious from her expression. Putting the crystals aside, Florence took out an ancient looking elven dagger. Alex's eyes widened slightly.

"I'm not going to cut you with it." Florence assured him. She held the dagger close to Alex's forehead, then near to his chest. She whispered another spell, then repeated the procedure with the dagger. She repeated that entire procedure three more times with different spells before she sat back upon her chair to consider.

Alex looked back at Florence with expectation.

After a moment, Monika spoke up. "Did you find anything?"

Florence looked up. "Well… not really. Nothing clear." She paused. "I did detect a mild sympathy with the Ayleid blade. It was very hard to tell. If you hadn't told me about it, I doubt that I would have even noticed." She paused again "I couldn't detect anything than points to some sort of dragon… bloodline power or the like, but I'm not sure I'd recognise it."

A brief silence passed. Monika interrupted it. "So, then…?"

Florence responded. "I'll have a look at some books, but I'm not confident that there's anything I can do."

Monika seemed more disappointed than Alex. Neither spoke.

"I'm not really an expert with this sort of thing." Florence mused. "I suppose that there might be someone else…"

Monika glanced to Alex. "I don't think that would be a good idea." She turned back to Florence. "I mean, we trust you… but I don't know about…"

"I understand." Florence accepted. "I won't say a word. I'm just sorry that I can't offer something more."

Alex had a look of resignation upon his face. "It did save us a couple of times, but I can live without it."

Florence patted Alex on the arm. "If it's any comfort, I don't think the Ayleid magic will hurt you at all, not that I can tell. I suppose that the effects might wear off with time, but I really couldn't say with any certainty."

Alex nodded his acceptance.

Monika had thanked Florence for trying to help and they then made their farewells before leaving the College of Whispers behind.

Outside the college, Monika had slowed to a stop. She seemed to be thinking.

Alex turned her, speaking quietly. "What should we do now?"

After a pause, Monika responded. "I was hoping that Florence would be able do something for you."

"As long as it is not hurting me…" Alex offered.

Monika gave him a brief look, then nodded. "Yeah."

Alex waited for Monika's wool gathering to pass. He looked ahead down the main street of Chorrol. There was still at least an hour and a half to go before midday, but the central plaza ahead was already beginning to become rather crowded.

"Are you hungry?" Alex was trying to redirect her attention.

Monika tuned to Alex. "Huh? Uh… yeah. Maybe just a little."

"Maybe we could get something to eat." Alex suggested, indicating the street vendors along the edge of the plaza."

"Yeah, good idea. Let's do that."

Alex had another suggestion. "Since we need go back to the Guildhall, maybe we could get in some training."

Monika returned a slight smile. "Yeah, good idea."

They headed over to get something to eat. Afterward, they had gone out the back of the Fighter's Guild to do some light training for part of the afternoon. As intended, they had gone to see Karl again later in the day. However, the contract that he was waiting on still hadn't come through. They planned to come back the next day and see if circumstances had changed. It wasn't as though they needed the gold, but they both wanted to be doing something useful.

Later in the evening, as they retired to their room at the Oak and Crosier, Monika seemed a little moody by Alex's estimation. He had made some effort to offer distraction, but her mood persisted.

After they had gone had to bed, Alex had woken at some point to learn that Monika was not there. Through bleary eyes, he had observed that she was sitting over at the desk and writing by candlelight. He presumed that she had decided to respond to the letter that she had received from her mother. He smiled to himself and quickly returned to sleep.

* * *

It was only just after dark as Fadren Verelas arrived at the city of Bruma. It had been a long and tiring march over the mountains from the south of Skyrim.

Two days had passed since he had set of from the township of Helgen. Accepting the firm advice of the Imperial soldiers that manned the gatehouse in the pass through the mountains, Fadren had camped by the stone walls for part of the night and rested. He had resumed his southward journey early in the morning before the dawn.

Just a few leagues from the pass, Fadren had spotted a frost troll ahead. It had been gazing off toward the rising sun and the direction of the light breeze had been in Fadren's favour. He was fortunate that the creature had not actually seen him. However, after he had left the road for a distance to avoid the troll, he then encountered some trouble finding the trail again. Aside from the undulation of the terrain, the mountainside was relatively open. However, the snow upon the ground had made it rather difficult to spot the road unless he was right on top of it. Eventually, he had found the trail again and resumed his southbound march.

Later in the day, his destination came into view in the distance. However, it took quite some time to get there. It had taken him all day, but Fadren eventually reached the gates at the eastern walls of Bruma. He had casually noted of the number of buildings outside the tall city walls. He thought it just a little odd. Most of the walled cities that he had previously seen had few structures outside of the walls. There were only a few people about at that time. Aside from a couple of people over at the stabling facilities, the others appeared to be headed for the row of houses along the eastern wall. Some of those headed for the houses outside the city were Dunmer. He wondered if that should mean something.

Fadren had presented his papers to the guard at the eastern gates. He had mentioned that he had come from Skyrim and was headed south. The guard had not seemed particularly concerned and had just waved him through without interest.

Just inside the city walls, another pair of city guards warmed themselves by an open brazier. One of them gave him a friendly nod as he passed by. It appeared that the Imperial Nords were perfectly fine with travelling Dunmer. It was rather different from what Fadren had come to expect from the Nords of the northern parts of Skyrim.

The general look of Bruma reminded Fadren of a varied mix of other cities in the north of Skyrim. A little bit of Solitude and a little bit of Windhelm. Other parts seemed more like Dawnstar or Winterhold. Some of it appeared different from any of those places. He imagined that it must have been the influence of Imperial Cyrodiil.

Fadren spotted a convenient tavern just a short distance from the city gates. He didn't notice the name of the place. He just headed straight inside. The tavern was rather poorly lit and seemed rather crowded. That was probably more because it was not very large. The atmosphere of the tavern seemed a bit rowdy, but it was nothing that he hadn't seen before.

As first order of business, Fadren had spoken with the bulky Nord barkeep and learned that he could get a small room for the night. The barkeep didn't seem to care at all that he was a Dunmer. That seemed to be more the case, the further south that he travelled.

A little later, Fadren sat in a dark corner of the tavern nursing a mug of ale as he considered his next actions. He thought that he might stay in Bruma for just one day. If he asked around, he might learn something about the way to Skingrad before continuing onward. He easily convinced himself that it would be best that he try to take some measure of that foreign land as much as possible. He also convinced himself that the delay of one day would not be at all inappropriate. After all, if he could think of it, then Azura would have already considered the matter. He imagined that his actions were his own only up to a point. Azura would already know what he would do and when he would do it. Fadren realised that he took some measure of comfort from that. It was good to have a sense of purpose.

~O~


	14. Chapter 14

Evening Star

Greg J Miller

~O~

Chapter 14

Fredas the 20th of Frostfall 4E48

Ras'Dar was feeling rather pleased with things in general as they had set out from Riverhold earlier that morning. Most things seemed to be going his way. Some of it was own doing and some of it seemed good fortune. Either way, he was still feeling quite pleased with himself.

On Middas, Ras'Dar had returned from hunting to the hillside city with that rather disappointing bounty, but he had been pleasantly surprised when he managed to acquire just a little more gold than he had originally estimated. He had the good sense to stay away from the taverns that night.

On Turdas, he had received confirmation of a job with those Imperial soldiers down at the barracks. Since he knew that he needed to be up early on Fredas morning, he had again kept away from the taverns.

Now it was Fredas and he was marching along the western road with the trade caravan and the Imperial escort. All that he had to do was walk along with those soldiers as they escorted the traders to their destination. If any native Khajiit that didn't speak the Imperial tongue came along, then it fell to Ras'Dar to translate for the soldiers. Even that didn't really seem so necessary to Ras'Dar. After all, surely those Khajiit in the wagons could do the very same thing. Still, that was not something that Ras'Dar would say out loud to anyone. He would be paid quite nicely for very easy work.

In just another few hours, the caravan would arrive at the trading village of Tardorn Wood. They would stop there for just a short while as the traders conducted their business.

After that was done, they would continue on along the road until they reached the town of Seaplace. There would be more business with the traders and they would all stay there for the night. Ras'Dar did not know why that town was called Seaplace. As far as he understood, the sea was some place where the waters were like some enormous lake that extended even further than the vast sands of the No-quin-al Desert near his former home town of Dune. Seaplace was nowhere near anything like that.

Early the next morning, the caravan would be setting off again. That next leg of the journey would take them much further westward, passing through the territories claimed by the tribal village of Cori Darglade. That village was located some distance off the main road, near where the open savanna gave way to the great desert. Ras'Dar had only been there once. That was almost a year before, during the treaty negotiations to secure that trade route. The chieftains of Cori Darglade had agreed to accept the passage of trade caravans escorted by Imperial soldiers. However, there was always the chance of renegades and outlaws that did not abide the rule of the territory. Either way, the caravan would not be actually going to that tribal village. Only passing through the edge of their lands.

The caravan would continue onward throughout the day. The journey would follow the road all the way around the western edge of the arid uplands, then turn south toward the city of Dune. It would most likely be dark by the time that they arrived at their destination. Too late for the traders to conduct their business.

The next morning, the traders would be rushing to the markets of the lower part of the city. They would be remaining in Dune for just the one day.

Ras'Dar was planning to remain with the Imperial Soldiers camping outside the city walls. He knew that he could always head into the city and visit his family, but he wasn't planning to. He had only briefly thought about visiting his mother, but he really held no desire to see any of his older brothers. They were a great part of his reasons for running away in the first place.

A few months after he had first left Dune, Ras'Dar had sent a message to his mother informing her that he was okay. He had not mentioned where he had gone; only that it was somewhere green. He didn't want any of his brothers coming after him. He had no intention of making a return visit until he had made something of himself.

By Sundas evening, the caravan would be loaded up, then early Morndas morning they would begin the journey back the way they came. If nothing too unusual came to pass, they would be back at Riverhold after the passing of five days. Ras'Dar would be paid quite well for marching alongside the Imperial Soldiers. Overall, Ras'Dar was feeling quite happy with how things were going.

* * *

Malcolm Forester had woken in his Skingrad home feeling somewhat more refreshed than he had felt the previous morning. He had been feeling rather fatigued after the long walk from the Imperial City on Middas, but it was nothing that a bit of rest couldn't fix.

As he had expected, it was well and truly dark by the time that he reached Skingrad on Middas evening. He entered the city via the Lower Eastern Gates, then headed across town toward his home. He knew that there wouldn't be any food in the house when he arrived there, so he visited the tavern up the road for a hot meal. Afterward, he went straight home to his small house near the south-west corner of the city. He managed to strip off his mithril armour before falling upon his bed and into a deep slumber.

Forester had slept rather late and taken his time getting up and about on Turdas morning. Eventually, he made his way out of the house and through the streets of the southside of Skingrad. He had been distracted by the odours wafting from the nearby bakery and diverted his path. After satisfying his hunger, he resumed his journey for his intended destination.

The city of Skingrad was divided into three main districts. Four, if you actually chose to include the central area that divided the two largest parts of the city, as some citizens did.

The north and south sides of the city were separated by The Low Street. Its name came from the fact that the broad street was lower than the rest of Skingrad. If it weren't paved with roughly hewn stone, it might have just looked more like a broad gully that ran through the centre of Skingrad. In fact, whenever it rained hard enough, that was almost exactly what it looked like. The wide street ran through the middle of the city from east to west.

Downhill at the western end, was the main entrance to the city. The main stabling facilities of Skingrad were located just outside those gates. The Lower Eastern Gates were at the other end of The Low Street. Those eastern gates were actually situated higher than the western gates, but they were on The Low Street.

Aside from the stalls of the open trading markets, there were just two notable permanent structures in The Low Street. The local office of the Imperial Trading Company and its warehouse were situated about half way along on the southern side of the street. Those structures had been firstly built there during Ocato's reign as he struggled to keep the Empire together. During the Interregnum, those buildings had fallen into disuse for a time. Restoring the functional operation of the Imperial Trading Company throughout Cyrodiil had been one of Emperor Mede's initiatives.

The southern side of Skingrad was known as the Chapel District. That was because of The Great Chapel of Julianos that dominated the south-eastern part of the district. Of course, Julianos was the Aedric Divine of Wisdom and Logic. A cemetery occupied a portion of the grounds near the temple.

Most of the rest of the Chapel District was tightly packed with residential homes. Few of them seemed particularly large. Most were rather ordinary. The only places of commerce in that district were the bakery and the large tavern not far from Forester's modest house.

The northern side of Skingrad was known simply as Hightown. Aside from just a few large homes that belonged to some of the city's wealthier citizens, that part of town was the main business district of Skingrad. Of course, some commerce took place in the open markets of The Low Street, but most of the city's well-established businesses were located along The High Street in Hightown. The offices of the Fighter's Guild and the College of Whispers were also located in that street. The famous West Weald Inn was the first place on that street that any visitor to Skingrad would see after coming up from the main entrance to the city. The far less inviting Northside Tavern was located off a side street further up the hill.

At the top of The High Street was the Upper Eastern Gate. Most people just referred to them as the Eastern Gates. Those gates led outside to an elevated path to the primary district of Skingrad. Across a high set stone bridge was Castle Skingrad. The castle grounds sat atop a steep hill that overlooked the entire city.

As well as the many staff that served there, that place was home to many of Skingrad's soldiers and bureaucrats serving the count and his city.

Count Janus Hassildor had served as ruler of that city and county for hundreds of years. Although he was born an Imperial of noble blood, he was understood to be a powerful mage. That was said to be the reason behind his great longevity. He was known to be as fiercely protective of his privacy as he was of his lands and people. It was said to be virtually impossible to gain an audience with the count. No one but the Emperor himself could expect to get any closer than speaking with the count's stewards.

That morning, Forester had made his way across The Low Street, then headed up The High Street of Hightown until he arrived at the local office of the Fighter's Guild. Aside from the elderly Guild Porter, it had firstly seemed that the Guildhall was almost empty. Speaking with the porter, he had soon learned that the Guildhall was indeed effectively empty. The ageing porter was the only one there. All the other local Guild Fighters were out for one reason or another and the local Guild Head was away for the day. The old porter told Forester that she would back the next morning and that he should return then.

Forester was slightly annoyed that he couldn't even report for duty. He resolved to attend to other matters and just come back the next day. With some vague expectation that he might be staying for a few days, he elected to head off to the stores and get some food and other supplies for the house. He had been somewhat pleased with himself as he purchased a brand new shaving blade.

Back at his house, Forester had tested out the new blade. After a proper shave and trim of his beard, he gained some sense of satisfaction. Only the gray hairs served to undermine that feeling. He passed the remainder of the day in a lazy fashion and made an early night of it.

On Fredas morning, Forester had again made his way across town to the local office of the Fighter's Guild. At first, it seemed just as deserted as the previous day. He was just about to call out, when he heard the old porter shuffling toward him from a side room.

"Good morning to you, Calidius." Forester addressed the elderly porter.

"Forester." Fadus Calidius responded in a weary tone. The old Imperial man had to be nearly eighty, but he refused to retire. Obviously, it had been many years since he had served as an active Guild Fighter, but he wasn't about give in to retirement as long he could still serve the Guild in some fashion.

Forester had been waiting for Fadus to continue, but a good few moments had passed. "Well, then. Is Guild Head Canne in this morning?"

Fadus eyeballed Forester as though he'd been interrupted. "She's upstairs… in her office." He paused briefly. "I told her… to expect you… this morning."

Forester waited a moment before responding. "Very good. I'll head right up, then." He assumed that the conversation was done and didn't wait to see if Fadus had anything more to add. He headed for the stairs at the back of the Guildhall. Passing through the common area of the middle level, he continued up the second flight of stairs to the upper level. The doors to the private quarters of the Guild Head and her second were closed. The door to her office was open. He headed directly across the waiting area and peered into the office.

The middle aged Breton woman sat at her large desk going over paperwork. She kept the desk facing side-on to the entrance to her office. She turned her head at his approach. "Forester. Fadus told me to expect you. Come on in."

Adrienne Canne had been head of that Guild office since Forester first joined up ten years back. He suspected that the Breton woman was just a couple of years older than he was, but there was still no hint of gray in her tied back auburn locks. He had wondered if that circumstance was natural, but kept those thoughts to himself.

Adrienne set aside some papers on her desk and indicated her attention. "So then, are you back from your wanderings?"

Forester cleared his throat. "Yes, for the time being. Reporting for duty. Of course, that depends upon whether you have any work for me."

The Guild Head looked to Forester with a pensive expression. She absently waved her hands outward as she spoke. "Well, contrary to appearances, there's nothing much on the books at the moment." Adrienne indicated the chair across the other side of desk. She was always annoyed when people stood over her when she was seated.

Forester returned a slightly confused expression as he took a seat. "So, where is everyone?"

"Elynwen is the only one doing something useful." Adrienne was referring to her Bosmer second. Elynwen was an expert archer and swordmaster. "She's off tracking some bandits. There's rumour of a group of outlaws somewhere out near the West Weald Track."

That was a lesser road that headed off to the south. It wound through The West Weald, eventually connecting to the road to Elsweyr. It wasn't well travelled at all. In fact, it was appropriately named. It was far more of a track than a road.

"Will she be requiring assistance?" Forester was hoping that would be the case.

Adrienne shook her head. "No, not at this stage. She's just tracking. I'm sure she'll let us know if she needs anyone out there."

Forester nodded, accepting her word. "So, then. Where is everyone else?"

Adrienne rolled her eyes. "Divines. Artellian and Temel-Za have run off looking into that bloody contract that the Synod have put out."

"I've heard about that thing." Forester interrupted. "And no, I'm not interested."

"Didn't think you would be. Stupid waste of time and resources." She wasn't finished. "If the Synod don't know what they're even after, then how do they expect someone else to find it for them? It's total idiocy."

"Agreed." Forester avoided throwing any more fuel onto that particular fire.

"You won't be seeing Vivinicci around here any more." A harsh expression was apparent in her eyes.

"Why is that? Has something happened to him?"

"He left Skingrad last week. Gone to Leyawiin."

Forester had an inkling that Giovanni Vivinicci would not be staying there for the long haul. The young Imperial always seemed far too full of piss and vinegar. He was always bristling with being the junior member of the Guildhall.

It was obvious to Forester that she didn't want to discuss it any further. He shifted the topic. "What about Taimar? Where is she?"

Adrienne rubbed her temple. "Our resident Redguard has gone back to Hammerfell for a few weeks. Family business, or so she says." Taimar was from the city of Rihad. That city was the one nearest to the western border of Cyrodiil along the coast, not all that far from Anvil.

"That leaves the Guildhall a little shorthanded." Forester stated the obvious.

Adrienne glared at him, just fleetingly. "I'm hoping that those two idiots will drag their backsides back here, before any real problems come up." She was referring to Jaras Artellian and Temel-Za, the Argonian.

"Temel-Za can be… uh… prone to distraction."

Adrienne shook her head in frustration. "Artellian should know better. If his grandfather was still around…"

Forester cleared his throat again. "Well then… I suppose it's just us for the time being." He was thinking that he might need to delay heading to Kvatch for a little longer.

Adrienne stared blankly at the papers on her desk. "That's right. There's nothing on right now, but that could easily change." She glanced up at Forester.

Forester responded. "Understood. I'll be sure to check in regularly."

"Good." She nodded once.

"If there's nothing else?"

"Go on. I'll contact you if anything comes up."

Forester offered a polite nod before departing her office. He headed back downstairs, acknowledging the aged porter on his way out of the Guildhall. Stepping out onto the streets of Skingrad, he paused a moment to consider what he was going to do with the rest of his day. He glanced down the road toward the West Weald Inn. It seemed a little early in the day to be visiting a tavern.

"Forester." A booming voice took him by surprise.

"Frederick." Forester spoke more quietly, turning to see the big Nord approaching. He appeared a little more dishevelled than usual. His light brown mane seemed a bit messier and a dirty smudge marked his large nose. "How are you, old friend?"

"Heh-heh. Good enough." Frederick chuckled. "I'll know better than to try that Northside Tavern again." He shook his head. His expression indicated that he felt he had just learned a valuable lesson. "I know the place isn't much to look at, but watering down the ale…"

Forester maintained a neutral expression. "Did you, uh… do something?"

"Ysgramor's beard." Frederick boomed. "I said what needed to be said."

"Yes, well. How did that pass?"

"They threw me out." Frederick's face protested his innocence in the matter.

"Some publicans can be… a little touchy, when it comes to that kind of criticism." Forester offered his advice in a measure tone.

A broad grin emerged from Frederick's wild beard. "Well, it took four of them to make their case. They're just lucky that I didn't want to stay in the place." He broke into a boisterous belly laugh.

Forester returned a mild chuckle. Frederick's laughter did tend to be contagious. "So my friend, what brings you to Skingrad? Surely not the ale?"

Frederick was still grinning. "Why don't we find a place with proper ale? Then I'll tell you all about it. If I remember right, the West Weald Inn never waters down the drink."

Forester nodded. "Alright then. Why not?"

They headed off down The High Street toward the inn.

It wasn't even near to midday yet, so the tavern area of the inn wasn't particularly crowded. In fact, it was almost empty. Forester and Frederick purchased their drinks from the main service bar and settled in at a table by the window.

At Forester's invitation, Frederick the Loud had gone on to detail some of his recent activities over the past couple of weeks. His intonation regularly alternated between enthusiasm and disappointment, then back again.

Frederick had conceded that he'd had no luck with that Synod contract. There was plenty of talk about in Anvil, but none that really added up to more than rumours and boastful lies. The taverns were full of people that claimed to have heard something about valuable Daedric artefacts. However, almost every story was different and none of them seemed to provide any proper information. A lot of the dock-workers of Anvil had claimed that such things were regularly smuggled out of the port by ship. Nobody was willing to back up their claims or point fingers. Even if there was any truth to any of it, then there was little chance of following up on that sort of information.

Frederick had bragged that he had gone right through a couple of ancient ruins and an old abandoned mine as he followed up some vague leads. He looked about the room to see if anyone was watching. Aside from the barkeeper and two elderly women chatting in the far corner, the tavern was still relatively quiet.

"I did get this." Frederick produced an ornate gold ring from a pocket. It was marked with a delicate engraving, but absent of any precious stones.

Forester glanced at the ring with only passing interest. "That's remarkable. Who is the lucky woman?"

Frederick ignored the comment. He leaned forward and spoke quietly. "It's an enchanted ring. I got it off a skeleton in the ruins of an old fort by the coast."

"Of course." Forester gave the ring a second glance. "Do you know what kind of enchantment has been imbued?"

"It's a stealth ring." Frederick's eyes lit up beneath his bushy brow.

Forester suppressed the urge to smirk.

Frederick's tone clearly reflected his enthusiasm. "With this thing, they won't hear me coming."

Forester maintained his composure. "You do realise that it will only muffle the sounds somewhat? Even the more powerful enchantments won't completely hide your presence."

Frederick took a swig of his ale. "We'll see how good it is."

Forester changed the subject. "I managed to meet up with Suvaris."

Frederick chuckled to himself. "What did the old Dunmer have to say? Keeping himself busy, I would think?"

Forester responded. "I caught up with him in the Imperial City."

"Yeah?" Frederick indicated his interest.

Forester continued. "I went back to Cheydinhal with him for a few days."

"Any work on over there?"

Forester paused a beat before answering. "Just a few small jobs. Nothing much, really. When I left, everyone was sitting around the Guildhall again."

Frederick just remembered something. "Hey. I saw two of those Stendarr cultists a few days back." He paused to gauge Forester's attention. "It was in the Brina Cross Inn, on The Gold Road, over toward Anvil. Never seen one before. Would'na even known who they were, 'cept one of 'em tried to tell me all about the virtues of following Stendarr. I just told him not get between me and my ale." Frederick laughed loudly. He only stopped to drain his mug.

Forester kept his thoughts to himself, sipping at his own drink.

Frederick prompted Forester. "So, did'ja get to see any of them cultists over in Cheydinhal?"

"No. They were all out and about, as I understand it." Forester was reluctant to say any more.

Frederick's expression indicated a mild confusion. "I thought Suvaris was 'sposed to be all friendly-like with them?"

"Only as much as circumstances require, from what he tells me."

Frederick waved it off. He wasn't all that interested. "Since I'm here, I was thinkin' of heading over to the Fighter's Guild."

"I've just come from there." Forester advised. "We are a bit shorthanded at the moment, but there's no work on. In fact, I'm just standing by, waiting to see if something might come up."

Frederick contemplated his empty mug. "Ah, I guess I'm only passin' through anyway. Unless somethin' comes along, I might stay just a coupla days, then head back to Bruma."

Forester nodded his agreement.

After releasing a restrained belch, Frederick grabbed his empty mug and stood up. "I'm gettin' another one. You want one?"

Forester shook his head. "No, thank you. I think that's enough for me."

"Suit yourself." The big Nord lumbered over to the bar for a refill.

Shortly after Frederick returned, Forester made his excuses and farewells, leaving Frederick to his ale. The midday crowds were just beginning to come into the tavern as Forester departed the inn.

Forester paused a moment by the side of the street and wondered what he might do with the remainder of the day. Looking across the city and over the stone walls, he noticed a build up of gray clouds off to the north. It was too early to say if it meant rain. They were still quite a long way away, obscuring the view of the distant northern mountains.

Those gray clouds again reminded him of the gray hairs intruding upon his temples and his beard. If he could be bothered with the task, he could always dye his hair, he thought. It seemed that it might be even more of a chore with his cropped beard. He pondered the notion of seeking out a concoction to reduce the spread of gray hair. After a moment, he shook his head and let go of the idea.

Making his way back to the southside of Skingrad, Forester was considering the idea of going around to each of the city's taverns later. He was thinking that he might ask around about the Vigilants of Stendarr. He knew that they weren't welcome in Skingrad, but that didn't mean that he wouldn't learn something if he asked the right questions of the right people. In any case, it didn't seem that he'd have any other pressing matters to attend.

* * *

Fadren Verelas slowed to a halt on the steep road. For just a moment, he hadn't realised that he had actually stopped walking. He gazed at the view ahead where the trees had parted to reveal an unexpected sight. With the highlands of County Bruma at his back, the land fell away ahead of him. Through the light haze, he could see a large body of water that appeared to surround a sizeable island. Of course, it was the structure upon that island that captured his attention. It was difficult to make any clear detail from that distance. A huge stone city dominated the middle of the island. He had thought that the Imperial City might be a little larger than Windhelm or Solitude, but he never imagined something quite like what he was looking at. He imagined that it must have been at least three or four times larger than any city he had seen before. A huge tower rose up from the centre of the city. That tower seemed impossibly tall. He struggled to comprehend how such a structure could remain standing.

A few moments passed before Fadren managed to overcome his sense of awe and resume his downhill journey along The Silver Road. He tried to resist the urge to stare at the distant city and returned his attention toward watching the road ahead.

Fadren had passed the previous day in Bruma. Visiting the taverns and other places of commerce in the city, he had intimated that he was a traveller from Skyrim on his way meet up with a friend in Skingrad. Over the course of his brief discussions, he had learned something of what lay ahead. He had been told that all the main roads led to the centre of Cyrodiil. If he followed the road out of Bruma, it would take him to The Red Ring Road that surrounded the central district about the Imperial City. The city of Skingrad was supposed to be located to the west of that central region, along The Gold Road. He was told that all the main roads were clearly signed and well patrolled by the Imperial Legion. He also learned that there were a number of inns and small settlements along the roads where a traveller could stay for a reasonable fee.

Now that he had seen the apparent grandeur of the Imperial City of Cyrodiil, he was somewhat tempted to alter his direct path. For just a brief moment, he wondered whether that was his own idea. He quickly shook off the notion of such distraction. Skingrad was the place where he was meant to go. Anything else would just have to wait. Still, he wondered if he might have the opportunity to visit the Imperial Capital after he had completed his task. Only time would tell.

* * *

Rather late in the afternoon yesterday, Monika and Alex had finally heard word of the contract they had been waiting on. Just as Karl gro-Baroth had previously informed them, the job was a relatively ordinary one. Although there was some measure of danger, it was nothing that they couldn't handle. The task was important enough to be contracted by the Countess for the city.

There had been a marked increase in the number of wolves intruding upon the areas about the city and taking livestock. Isolated incidents were not uncommon. However, it had recently become far more frequent.

There were two likely reasons for the current behaviour of the wolves. The first, being a significant increase in their numbers. The coming winter was the other most likely reason. It was likely that a lot of wolves had come down from the highlands of County Chorrol into The Great Forest. With more wolves and less food in the forest, they were roaming further afield in search of easy prey. The farms about Chorrol were the obvious targets.

There had been three wolf attacks upon the farms of the settlement just outside of Chorrol's southern walls during the past week. More attacks had occurred upon the farms a little further out.

The Fighter's Guild had been contracted to cull wolves in the immediate vicinity of Chorrol, as well as around the Weynon Priory settlement and out by the Odiil Farms; just a few leagues south along The Black Road. Karl had mentioned that Hackdirt had also been having some trouble, but the Legion outpost at the town was handling it.

The contract secured the Guild for a period of seven days. Each Guild Fighter was to receive a fixed payment for the task with a bonus for each wolf that was killed. The reward was not especially generous, but it was important work.

It was just the four of them attending to the culling. Karl gro-Baroth had wanted to go out with them, but as long as the Guild Head was away, he was stuck in the office. Monika and Alex were joined by Montrose and the young recruit, Vinnus Odiil. Everyone else was still away from Chorrol. Two of them with the boss and the other two chasing after that Synod contract.

That contract would be the first job in the field for young Vinnus. Montrose was directly responsible for the training of the fresh recruit.

Alex had taken a bit of a liking to the young Imperial trainee. He felt like he related to the lad because of the similarities of their backgrounds. Vinnus Odiil came from a farming family. His father and uncles ran the Odiil Farm down the road. Unlike his brothers, Vinnus wasn't interested in the farming life. He had looked into joining the Chorrol City Guard, but that was his second choice. It was a position with the Fighter's Guild that he really wanted. Vinnus had managed to exploit the friendship between his uncle and the Guild Head. After a few tryouts, he showed enough promise to gain acceptance as a recruit. It remained to be seen whether he would actually make first rank.

Alex didn't mind working with Francois Montrose. Monika felt a little differently. She tolerated working with him, but she didn't have much liking for the man. Even Alex accepted that Montrose could be annoying around the Guildhall.

Montrose had been with the Guild just a little longer than Monika had, but he was just one rank higher than she was. He was certainly experienced and competent enough, but he could be somewhat obnoxious at times.

Montrose was of those Breton's that carried himself as though he was from High Rock nobility. He spoke with a vague High Rock accent. He often commented about Breton traditions and the like in a fashion that indicated much of what he knew was really only from second-hand details. According to Monika, Montrose had never even set a foot outside of Cyrodiil. She had passed the greater portion of her lifetime in Wayrest before she left High Rock for Cyrodiil. Monika had told Alex that Montrose most probably picked up his accent from his parents or grandparents. She insisted that his maintaining that accent was nothing more than an affectation.

Nonetheless, they were heading out to cull wolves. With any luck, there wouldn't be much opportunity to hear Montrose going on with his false airs and graces.

The four of them had set off into the forests west of Chorrol early that Fredas morning. From the start, it had been shaping up to be a cold and miserable day. Gray clouds had been moving down from the mountains since just after dawn. By mid-morning, it had started to rain on and off. The light drizzle was bad enough. The notable absence of wolves was even more frustrating. The closest that they came to finding any wolves was spotting the droppings. It was an indication that they had been in the area. However, that day they remained elusive.

By the time that dark was approaching, they were more than ready to call it a day and return to the city. If wasn't for the rain, they might have considered continuing the hunt into the evening. However, they were all cold and wet and they'd had enough. Perhaps the next day would be more successful.

They trudged back to the gates of Chorrol empty-handed. Montrose and Vinnus made their way directly back to the Guildhall. Alex and Monika headed for their room at the Oak and Crosier.

After a warm bath and a hot meal, Monika and Alex retired for an early night. Their leathers were carefully laid out to dry by the small fireplace and they went straight to bed. They huddled together for warmth, but after that dismal day, neither was in the mood for anything but a good night's sleep.

* * *

Belwen awoke with a start. She had been asleep for no more than an hour. She thought she had heard a noise, but she wasn't sure. After another moment, she again thought she heard some sort of noise, but she couldn't make out what it was. Reluctantly, she rose and quietly headed off to investigate.

Passing through the kitchen area, she could hear that the sounds were from coming from Volundare's bedroom. It sounded a bit like he was speaking with someone. That didn't seem to make any sense. It was quite late and she had not heard anyone come to the house.

Belwen moved quietly as she drew near to Volundare's sleeping quarters. The door had been left open. Candlelight flickered inside the room. She cautiously peered through the open doorway. Volundare was facing in the opposite direction, sitting upon the floor with those mysterious books that he generally kept in his study. Belwen was briefly startled as Volundare suddenly raised his voice from a mumble to something much louder. She realised that he was just babbling unintelligibly. It seemed like he was acting out two parts of a conversion. However, he was speaking in some language she had not heard before. The volume of his vocalisations gradually diminished to a mumble again. She noticed that he seemed to be swaying slightly in a circular motion.

Belwen quietly backed away, taking care not be noticed. She returned directly to her own sleeping quarters. She found it difficult to hold any concern for Volundare's wellbeing. In fact, she was quietly hoping that the old Altmer's time was nearing an end. Her greater concern was for her own safety. It was one thing endure a cruel master. It was another thing entirely to live in fear of one that had lost his mind.

Belwen found it difficult to return to sleep as she continued to listen for the sound of Volundare's voice coming from the far end of the house. She struggled to determine if those distant noises remained distant.

~O~


	15. Chapter 15

Evening Star

Greg J Miller

~O~

Chapter 15

Sundas the 22nd of Frostfall 4E48

Ras'Dar had forgotten just how much he disliked the desert sands. The morning seemed uncomfortably warm and he was still brushing the sand from his fur. It had only been a little more than twelve hours since they reached their destination and he'd already had enough of the warm sands to last him another six years.

The previous evening, the trading caravan had encountered a rather mild sandstorm just a couple of leagues short of Dune. It was not one those really bad ones, the kind that tore at the flesh and threatened to bury the unprepared. It had just been more of a dust storm with some brisk winds, but still quite annoying and it made it very hard to see.

The sun had just fallen below the low mountains that separated Elsweyr from Valenwood. Before the dust clouds came rolling in, the lights of the upper parts of Dune had been visible. The Imperial soldier in charge of the escort had suggested stopping to wait for the dust cloud to pass. Ras'Dar had advised otherwise. He insisted that he could guide them along the road for that short distance that remained. He also warned of the danger of being out there if the storm became any worse. The soldier had accepted the advice of the Khajiit guide and fortunately the storm had not become any worse.

It had been quite dark by the time that the trading caravan had finally arrived at the walls of Dune. The winds had eased off a bit by the time that they struggled to erect the tents of the encampment, but the dust would remain in the air for hours. The hazy sky almost completely obscured the moons rising in the east.

Up until they encountered that sandstorm, the journey from the township of Seaplace had passed fairly uneventfully. The only thing of particular note had occurred around midday. A pair of tribal Khajiit had come out onto the road ahead of the caravan. Both carried spears and shields and were dressed as typical Cori Darglade tribals. They offered no direct challenge with the Imperial soldiers serving as escort. They might well have been would-be bandits, but they said that were just hunters. Ras'Dar wasn't sure that he believed them. Since they hadn't offered any threat, there was no trouble. The tribal Khajiit left the road and the caravan continued on its way.

Aside from spotting some desert wolves off in the distance, the rest of the journey to Dune remained perfectly uneventful. At least until that storm.

After a night of difficult rest, the traders had gathered their wares and had gone into the city to conduct their business. Some of them would be coming and going between the wagons throughout the day. In all likelihood, they would be done with their trading long before the day grew old, but far too late to consider heading off on the return journey.

Ras'Dar and the soldiers would pass the day in the shade of their tents. According to the current laws of Dune, the Imperial soldiers were actually permitted to visit the markets of the lower city. However, their standing orders instructed them to stay out of the city and avoid any trouble. That's exactly what they would be doing.

During the morning, Ras'Dar sat under the canopy of the tent gazing out across the desert to the east. There was almost no indication that a sandstorm had passed the previous evening. Just a slight dust haze remained in the air.

At one point, he had noticed a group of Anequina running birds striding at full tilt toward the south. They were not those really big ones. They were the smaller variety. The ones that stood at less than half the height of an Imperial man. They usually didn't run like that unless something was chasing them, but he couldn't see anything behind them.

The Imperial soldiers talked amongst themselves in the shade. Ras'Dar tended to tune their voices out. They didn't generally include him in the conversations except to ask him a question in the form of a friendly jibe. It was usually something about desert cats.

During the late morning, one of the older soldiers had finished with a book he had been reading. He had noticed the young Khajiit sitting by himself and offered him the book to read. Ras'Dar accepted the offer. He was grateful for the distraction.

It was one those Imperial books about the life of the Champion of Cyrodiil. Ras'Dar could read and write in the Imperial tongue well enough to get by, but he didn't generally give it that much time. Just getting by was usually enough. He didn't understand all of the words in the book, but more than enough to follow the substance of what it told. He'd heard some stories before, but he'd never actually read a book about the Champion of Cyrodiil. He wondered just how much of it was really true and what portion was exaggerated for better storytelling. He found it a little hard to believe that just one person could be responsible for all those things that the book claimed.

As the day wore on, Ras'Dar realised that there was no possibility that he would finish that book. He started skipping ahead through the pages looking for parts that drew his attention. The daylight was fading as he read through passages detailing how the Champion had assisted Martin Septim against the invading forces of Oblivion. He found it difficult to believe that an Imperial man could transform into some sort of dragon-god and become a stone statue. Still, he just shrugged it off, remembering that the Imperials found it difficult to understand how all Khajiit were born different according the phases of the two moons.

The traders had concluded the last of their business by late in the afternoon and all had returned to the encampment for the coming evening. Once everyone had been fed, they would be settling in for the night. Ras'Dar needed to put that book aside. He wanted to be sure that he was well rested for the long march the next day.

* * *

Monika, Alex, Montrose and the young recruit had set off again in the morning, just as they had done the past two days. The previous day had been a little better than the first one had been. The gray skies had persisted throughout Loredas, but it had only rained lightly a couple of times. They had actually taken down a group of three wolves not far from Chorrol during that day. That had been in the forested area just to the south-east of the city. They had spotted another couple of wolves later in the day. Both had been too far off for a successful shot and had escaped into the woods of The Great Forest.

They had all been thinking the same thing. There had to be a lot more wolves out there. More than the five they had encountered so far. It probably wouldn't be all that hard to find that many at any given time, if they were actually looking for them.

They planned to expand their range further afield over the following days. Perhaps, they would also continue the hunt into the evenings if the weather became more suitable.

By Sundas morning, the skies seemed far less threatening. There was still some light cloud cover, but it didn't look like rain. Monika had suggested a different plan for the day. They headed out the northern gates of the city that morning. They split into two groups. Montrose and Vinnus Odiil would cover the area from the north road, heading around the western side of Chorrol. Monika and Alex would take the area immediately north of the gates and work their way around the forested area east of the city.

Alex might have liked to have passed some time hunting with the young recruit and perhaps have given him a few pointers with his archery skill. However, he knew that Monika held no desire to pass any more time than necessary in the company of Montrose.

The overall area that Monika and Alex would cover was probably quite a bit larger and more heavily wooded than the western side. That was intentional. The area that Montrose needed to cover with the recruit would be likely to be a bit easier, provided that they didn't stray too far to the west.

By late in the afternoon, Montrose and Odiil had finished their sweep of the western side of Chorrol. They had come around the south of the city and headed into the forest on the eastern side. It was perhaps an hour short of sunset as they caught up with Monika and Alex in the forest.

At their approach, young Odiil had enthusiastically held up two wolf ears. For each wolf that they culled, they took the right ear as proof of the kill. Montrose had soon indicated they he also had two wolf ears. Alex and Monika had only three between them. That made a total of ten wolves over three days. It was a reasonable start, but they needed to do much better over the remaining four days to make a reasonable mark upon the local wolf population.

Since the weather had remained more favourable, they had decided to continue the hunt into the evening for a few hours. They also made tentative plans for the following days. The next day, they would head out to the Odiil Farms and sweep that area, both to the east and west of The Black Road. After that, they would work their way back through the area about the Weynon Priory settlement. They intended to save the last two days of the contracted period to aggressively go through that most heavily wooded area of The Great Forest immediately east of Chorrol. They had already made some headway into that part of the forest, but they intended to go much further, as much as time would permit. With any luck, there would be a lot fewer wolves in the area by the time that they were done. The farmlands and settlements about Chorrol should expect far less trouble from wolves through the winter. At least, that was the plan.

* * *

As it was Sundas, it was Captain Volundare's day off from duty. After what Belwen had seen on Fredas night, she had been somewhat surprised that he had left the house the next morning to attend his duties at the governor's offices.

When Volundare had return to the household Loredas afternoon, he had seemed perfectly normal. For him, that meant that he was surly, demanding and sharp tongued. He had advised his Bosmer servant that he would be taking his evening meal early. Accordingly, Belwen had rushed to make preparations.

Volundare had cleaned himself and donned that expensive looking robe that generally wore about the household during the evenings. Shortly afterward, he had shouted at Belwen in his usual fashion and taken his meal.

The Altmer captain hadn't remained in his study for long that night. He had soon collected his various books and other items and retired to his bedroom. Later in the evening, Belwen had again heard strange sounds again coming from that end of the household. She did her best to try to ignore it. She had managed to sleep, if somewhat fitfully.

During Sundas morning, Belwen had heard more strange noises emanating from Volundare's quarters. Some of it seemed like the wild rambling that she had firstly heard on Fredas night. Upon a number of occasions, she thought that she had heard other sounds that seemed like he was casting spells of some sort. She did her best to ignore what she heard and go about her normal household duties.

As the day wore on, Volundare remained in his private quarters. As far as Belwen knew, he had not left the room at all. Nor had he called out to her for any reason. Of course, she held no interest in whatever it was that the Altmer was up to. At least, not as long as it didn't directly affect her. She continued to attend her duties as she normally would.

Later in the afternoon, Belwen had heard Volundare call out for her to attend. She had assumed that it was about providing a meal. Putting aside what she was doing, she rushed to his quarters. She stood at the open doorway, awaiting his instructions.

Volundare turned to the doorway, as he became aware of her presence. "Don't just stand there. Come over here girl." He waved her into the room.

"Should I be preparing your meal?" Belwen presumed to make the suggestion.

"Forget about that." Volundare sounded more harried than angry.

Belwen took a few steps forward into his quarters. She firstly noticed that he had done something to the mat near the middle of the room. It looked as though he burned some sort of strange symbol into it. She stared at it for a prolonged moment.

Volundare's ill-tempered words quickly drew her attention again. "What are you doing? Come over here."

Although Volundare sounded relatively normal, his appearance seemed to indicate otherwise. His long white mane appeared rather unkempt. A sickly pallor seemed to afflict his golden tones and his eyes were bloodshot and slightly glazed. Whatever it was that he had been doing, it seemed he might have been doing it continuously since the previous evening.

"Over here. Come over here." Volundare insisted. He dragged her into the centre of the room by her arm.

Belwen released a short gasp. She had been startled. He had never before touched her except to strike in punishment.

"Here. Stand right here." Volundare made her stand upon the mat that he had defaced with those strange symbols.

Belwen had tried to look up. Although she was afraid to speak, she wanted to ask want he wanted from her. She wasn't sure how he'd respond. She chose to remain silent.

Volundare spun her around to face the desk by the side of the wall. He had previously cleared the desk of its usual items. A strange assortment of objects now covered the top of it. Eight candles burned in an arranged pattern. Next to each candle sat a bowl containing salts of some description. More strange symbols had been burned into the wooden surface of the top of the desk. In the centre, a flask simmered over an oil burner. The odours of some foul smelling concoction wafted from the flask. Just behind the flask, a star shaped object with eight points sat balanced upon an elevated pedestal.

Belwen had tried to turn around toward Volundare. She again thought to ask him what he wanted from her. He took her roughly by the shoulders and forcefully turned her back around to face the desk.

Belwen tried to overcome her sense of rising distress. "What… what… what… do you want me to do?" She couldn't imagine what he was up to, but she didn't like the look of it at all.

"Just do as you're told." Volundare snapped at her. He came around to stand beside her. He looked at where she stood and then moved her half a step closer to the desk. "Now, that's looks better." He spoke more calmly. "Lean forward and place your hands upon these markings… here… and here." He indicated two symbols near the edge of the desk.

Belwen glanced at him briefly, then nervously did as he said.

"Yes, yes. That's right. Now look at the star." Volundare took measure of how she was positioned, nodding to himself. He took a step back and moved around behind Belwen.

Belwen tried to turn her head. "What are we… what are you doing?"

"The star. The star. Never mind what I'm doing. Just look to the star."

Belwen complied. The putrid smell from that flask was beginning to make her feel a bit woozy. A growing sense of fear was welling up her belly. She was struggling to deal with a feeling of nausea threatening to overcome her.

"Yes. That should be perfect." Volundare mused. "Now, then…"

Belwen felt the bottom of her dress being lifted up. "What?" She took her hands from the desk to pull her dress back down.

"Stop that now." Volundare scolded her. "You are going to ruin it completely." He moved around beside her again and struggled with her as he tried to push her back into position. "This has to be exactly right. Now, just do as you're told." Checking that her hands were back upon the symbols, he tilted her head up toward the star upon the pedestal. He moved around behind her again.

"No… don't… please…" Belwen was beginning to sob. She was genuinely terrified of what might happen to her.

"Quite, girl. Do not be difficult. Just look to the star."

Belwen shuddered as she felt her bottom of her dress lifting up again. Tears were starting to obscure her view of the star shaped object. A mixed feeling of nausea, fear and rage rose in her chest. Almost without thought, she quickly took hold of the star in her right hand and swung about blindly in the general direction of her tormentor.

Belwen's dress fell back down about her legs. At the same time, she heard the loud thud from a heavy weight landing upon the floor. Blinking the tears from her eyes, Belwen looked down upon Volundare. His lifeless body was lying across the mat on his back. The star was still stuck in the side of his head. One point had buried deeply into his temple and a second through his cheek. His golden eyes had rolled back, exposing the whites of his eyes in an eerie fashion. Blood had spattered the side of his face. More blood was dribbling out of the head wounds onto the floor. She looked down at her hand and saw more blood. There was blood everywhere.

She fell down to her knees beside the body. It hardly seemed real to her. Her hands were shaking as she closed the front of Volundare's robe. Just then, she noticed an ornate dagger upon the floor next to his body. He must have dropped it. She didn't even know that he had it. Absently, she picked up the blade and returned it to the sheath sitting upon the bed just above Volundare's head. In a sense of mildly numbed panic, she thought that she should remove the star from his head. She pulled it free and even more blood began to flow, pooling upon the floor about his prone body. She reached for a linen cloth and tried to stem the flow of blood and soak up the growing pool.

Belwen soon stopped what she was doing and collapsed upon herself. She mumbled quietly to herself. "I am undone. Undone... I am… I am…" Sobbing, she silently thought to herself. "_I've killed myself. I'll be killed for this. No one will believe…_"

Belwen couldn't tell how much time had passed as she wiped the moisture from her eyes with her left hand. It seemed like quite a long time, but it was still daylight outside. It couldn't have been as long as it seemed.

A vague measure of rational thought began to return to her. Staring at Volundare's body, she considered that he probably wouldn't be noticed missing until some time next morning. She thought that if she could clean up the mess and hide his body, it might even be a little longer. Unable to clearly think far beyond the immediate moment, she set about the task of cleaning up the mess. She firstly found the linen to bind the wounds in the side of Volundare's head, properly staunching the flow of blood. She brought in a bucket of water and cleaning rags, then set about cleaning up the best that she could. Of course, the rug was quite beyond cleaning. She rolled it up and stashed it under the bed. Once she had cleaned the floor properly, it might not even be obvious that the rug had been there at all. That gave her another idea. She struggled with Volundare's body and eventually managed to move it so that it was hidden under the bed. She tidied up all those books and stashed away all of the objects that had been arranged on the desk.

As she had been cleaning the room, a more long-term plan had begun to formulate in her mind. It was perfectly clear that she couldn't stay there. Her only chance at survival, however slim, involved running away before anyone knew anything about what had happened there. She needed to get out of Arenthia.

Once Volundare's quarters had been made fully presentable, she needed to do the same with herself. Belwen cleaned herself and changed her clothing.

In Volundare's study, she found that box that had arrived several days ago. It had been the first of several deliveries that had arrived since that time. She had concluded that the mysterious star shaped object must have arrived in that first package. It was the right size.

Belwen returned to Volundare's quarters. She had already cleaned the blood off the star. She placed it back into the box and sealed it up inside. She thought that the package might be exactly what she needed for her plan to work. At least, the first part of it anyway. Beyond that, she really couldn't imagine what to expect.

She considered Volundare's dagger. She wasn't sure that it would be useful or even whether she could actually use it, but thought it might be better to take it. She found a way a fix the sheathed blade to her inner thigh. It wouldn't be easy to get at it, but it would be just as hard for anyone else to notice that she had it. Only someone with reason to search her would know of it. She shook off that notion. She wouldn't be giving anyone such a reason.

She again looked about the room, satisfying herself that it appeared perfectly normal at first glance. It would soon be dark. She needed to get moving. If she left things too late, what she was planning would not seem quite so plausible. Once the sun had actually set, that would then work in her favour. At least up to a point.

Belwen made a final check of her appearance. Her clothes appeared normal. Her hair seemed to be in place. Most of the redness had faded from her eyes, not that the Thalmor usually looked at her downcast eyes. She again checked that there was no indication that she had a dagger under her dress. Taking the package under her arm, she left the household and started briskly along the streets of Arenthia.

After a short time, the main city gates came into view up ahead. Belwen struggled to maintain her composure as she strode purposefully toward the northern gates out of the city.

The bored Thalmor soldier by the gate directed his attention toward the approaching Bosmer girl. "Where are you headed?"

Belwen tried to compose herself before answering. She tried to speak as clearly and directly as possible. "Captain Volundare has instructed me to deliver this package to the stablemaster for transport."

The Thalmor guard glanced at the package only briefly. He didn't indicate any particular interest. "Go on, then. Be quick about it."

Belwen avoided looking directly at the soldier as she passed by. She marched through the gates and headed directly toward the stabling facilities located by the eastern side of the road. The sun was just setting as she walked the short distance along the road to the stables.

Ahead of her, past the stabling facilities, the old road used to continue northward into Cyrodiil. Obviously, that road had fallen into complete disuse since the Aldmeri Dominion had closed the borders. The main road now veered off to the west and back into the heart of old Valenwood. Neither direction would be of any use to her. She needed to stay off the roads.

Nearing the edge of the building next to the stables, she paused a moment to check on one of her shoes. She stole a quick glance about. The soldier by the gates was looking in the opposite direction. Anyone tending the stables would be on the far side of the building. No one else could see her where she stood.

Rather than going into the building, Belwen ducked down the side along the southern wall. She disappeared behind some shadowed bushes next to the building. Huddling in those shadows, she cautiously peered back in the direction she had just come. There was no sign of anyone in sight. No shouting or anything else out of the ordinary. She edged along the building to peer around the south-eastern corner. She couldn't see anyone. The back wall of the stables covered the eastern side. If there was anyone there, they were behind that wall.

Looking toward the east, there were just a few trees and bushes between her position and the forest. Over the years of their occupation, those bastard Thalmor had cleared a significant part of the woodland immediately about the stone walls of the city. In any circumstance, that was something offensive to Bosmer sensibilities. That evening, it was something that worked against her immediate needs.

It was nearly dark, but not so dark that she could not be spotted if anyone happened to be looking in her direction. The soldier at the gates couldn't see her there and he probably wouldn't be able to see her if she continued to keep the stabling facilities between her position and the gates. At least, not unless he came looking for her or sent someone else after her.

Belwen waited as long as she dared before she started her staggered dash. She checked again to be sure that no one was about. Quickly and quietly, she dashed for the cover of the nearest shrubs between her and the forest. From that cover, she peered back in the fading light and checked that nobody was there. So far, luck seemed to be with her. She repeated that procedure several times before she finally reached the edge of the forest.

She looked back toward Arenthia one last time, then turned and headed into the forest. She wasn't at all certain where was going. She wasn't even that confident that she would make it that far. Ahead of her, the forest stretched for leagues, rising up to cover the low mountains that stood between her homeland and the lands of Elsweyr.

She knew that the forests also stretched northward and downhill in the direction of Imperial Cyrodiil. That way might be somewhat easier, but because of that, she thought it better to choose the more difficult path.

The forests along the eastern border with Elsweyr were likely to be far more heavily wooded and untouched. The only nearby road that led into Elsweyr was many leagues south of Arenthia. She imagined that the Thalmor constantly patrolled that border crossing, just as they did with the crossing into Cyrodiil. She had no intention of going anywhere near either of those locations. She would head into the deepest forest of the wilderness and hope that luck would remain on her side.

Momentarily, Belwen wondered why she was still carrying that package under her arm. In effect, that object had saved her twice. The first time, from her deranged master. The second time as she was escaping the city. Without really knowing why, she decided to keep hold of it.

The dark forest ahead did not seem so much like salvation, but it easily seemed better than what lay behind. Belwen could not really imagine whether she would survive. At best, she hoped that if she died out there, it would not be at the hands of the soldiers of the Aldmeri Dominion. At least that would be something.

~O~


	16. Chapter 16

Evening Star

Greg J Miller

~O~

Chapter 16

Morndas the 23rd of Frostfall 4E48

"Looks like another fine day in Skingrad." Malcolm Forester was mumbling to himself as he peered out of the window of his bedroom. Even from that upper level of his small house, there wasn't all that much of a view. Most of what he could see was just the rooves of the other houses of the Chapel District with the spires of the temple rising above behind. Still, he could actually see the sky and it did look like another fine day.

Forester had only dragged himself out of bed after hearing the bells from The Great Chapel of Julianos marking the start of the working day. He might have been somewhat more motivated if he thought that the bells truly indicated the likelihood of some work for him. That morning would mark the fifth day in a row that he rose with little prospect of anything resembling a meaningful task ahead of him.

During the previous day, Forester had been bored enough to actually pass some time training in the lower level of the Guildhall. That was something that he rarely attended during recent times. More often, the work itself kept his skills keen, but not so much of late. His only sparring partners down there had been the wooden dummies. With all the other Guild Fighter's away, he had the whole training area to himself. The training dummies offered little in the way of sharpening his blade skills. His training session had drawn to an abrupt conclusion when he had set one of the dummies on fire. He had quickly dowsed the flames and tried to clean up the mess. However, the remaining smoke in the air had been a clear indication of what he had done. Of course, the charred dummy was another. The elderly porter had come downstairs to investigate his suspicions. Forester had been harshly berated for using destruction magic in the training area and was unceremoniously ousted for the remainder of the day.

Just as he had previously suggested, Frederick the Loud had left Skingrad behind the day after they had a drink together at the inn. Loredas morning, Forester had run into the big Nord in The Low Street as he was headed for the main gates out of the city. Frederick confirmed that he was heading back to Bruma. He was still going on about that stealth ring as he made his farewells.

During the past few evenings, Forester had visited the various taverns and inns of Skingrad. As he had planned, he had casually asked around about the Vigilants of Stendarr. A number of people had heard of them, but that was about the full extent of it. Some had heard rumours that the Vigilants of Stendarr operated out of Kvatch. Most of those were aware that the cultists were not welcome in Skingrad, by the order of Count Hassildor. There had been two farm workers from the vineyards that had mentioned seeing suspicious looking strangers passing along The Gold Road upon a number of occasions. They had both said that they thought the strangers must have been Stendarr cultists, but they really couldn't be all that sure of it. Overall, Forester had learned nothing of notable consequence. Nothing that he didn't already know. He needed to get out of Skingrad if he wanted to learn more.

Forester found it difficult to motivate himself that Morndas morning. After casually washing and dressing in his mithril armour, he had taken the time for a light morning meal.

He had even briefly considered trimming his beard yet again or shaving the bare parts of his face, but it hardly needed it. Aside from the gray flecks, he must have already had the best-kept beard in all of Cyrodiil.

Running out of other ideas, he decided that he should attend to the ritual of reporting for duty at the Guildhall once again. He truly hoped that there might be some purpose to it. His patience for just waiting around was beginning to wear rather thin. If he hadn't been the only active Guild Fighter in Skingrad, he might have able to make plans to head off to visit Kvatch.

Forester left his house and made his way across town to The High Street. He was soon passing through the front door of the Fighter's Guild.

The elderly Guild Porter was sitting to one side in the main entryway, just as he had been the past two mornings that Forester had come in. The brief conversion passed almost word for word as those previous mornings.

"Good morning to you, Calidius." Forester addressed the porter.

"Forester." Fadus Calidius responded.

"I'm here to see Guild Head Canne."

"She's upstairs… in her office."

"Very good. I'll head right up, then."

Forester headed directly up the stairs toward the office on the upper level. Crossing the waiting area on that level, he could hear voices coming from Adrienne Canne's office.

"Well, no. Not really." A male voice had spoken.

"Of course not. I don't know what you expected." That was Adrienne Canne. If her tone was any indication, she seemed to be in quite the mood that morning.

Forester had arrived at the open doorway of the office to see that Jaras Artellian and Temel-Za were seated across the desk from the Breton woman. The Imperial and the Argonian both appeared to have withered in response to her sharp words and harsh stare.

Adrienne had turned her head at Forester's arrival. "Forester. Come on in. Pull up a seat." She spoke more moderately toward him. Perhaps, that was only to demonstrate a clear contrast.

With the three Guild Fighters seated across from her, Adrienne Canne proceeded to summarise the current state of affairs. It seemed that she had already settled the matter of Artellian and Temel-Za chasing shadows for the Synod. Both of them appeared to have surrendered any passing enthusiasm for that particular folly. She had informed them that Vivinicci had quit the local Guild office, leaving Skingrad for Leyawiin and that Taimar had gone off to Hammerfell on family business.

Adrienne had confirmed that there were no active contracts of the books right at that moment. However, she also noted that Elynwen was still away investigating rumours of an outlaw gang setting up in The West Weald. She expected that her Bosmer second might soon return with news. Although it remained speculative, there was a reasonable chance that the Guild might need to deal with a fresh bandit threat.

The Skingrad Guild Head had ended with advising them to stand by for any upcoming work. Her eyes had darted between Artellian and Temel-Za as she said it. After a short pause, she dismissed them.

Both Artellian and Temel-Za seemed to be in a hurry to leave the office. Forester remained in his seat. He paused a further moment, still deciding whether to depart or give voice to his thoughts.

Adrienne had noticed the expression on his face. "Something on your mind?"

Forester hesitated briefly. He cleared his throat. "Well, uh… yes, actually."

Adrienne waited a moment before prompting him. "What is it, then?"

Forester appeared reluctant. "Yes. Well, uh… I have actually been waiting for the opportunity to uh…" He was still searching for the right way to say it.

Adrienne's expression urged him to just get on with it.

Forester continued. "I was hoping to head over to Kvatch. Just for a few days." He added the last part quickly.

Adrienne's expression hardened.

Forester tried to validate his request. "As you know, I have some family there. Since those other two have just returned and Elynwen should also be back soon…" He paused. "Well, it would only be for a few days. I'm sure that I'd be back again before Taimar."

It was clear from her stare that she was not happy about it. "How long?"

Forester summoned an earnest expression. "Only three or four days, I should think. Perhaps, five. At the most."

Adrienne tapped her fingers upon the table, mulling over her thoughts. "You know I don't have anything solid to offer you, right now." She placed her hands flat upon the table and gave Forester a long look. "If anything comes up we could be caught short-handed, but…"

"I don't expect to be long." Forester offered.

After a lengthy pause, Adrienne responded. "Go on, then. Don't let those other two know that you're going… and don't be gone for too long."

Forester expressed his gratitude. "Thank you. I'll do my best to return quickly." He quickly took his leave before she said anything else. He made his way back downstairs and headed directly for the front. He only paused to offer a passing greeting to the elderly porter.

Marching down The High Street, Forester took stock of his immediate plans. He would return home and tidy up the place. Any perishables would be disposed of before he left the place. He would be sure to make an early night of it. He intended to rise before the dawn and set off for Kvatch very early. Even if he made good time, he could expect the journey to take the whole day. It would most likely be dark by the time that he arrived.

Forester had meant to take the walkbridge directly over the top of The Low Street, but he was lost in thought and he completely missed the turn. He had only realised as he came up from The Low Street and then looked up to see the steps to the local inn directly ahead. It was no matter; he would just continue along the street and take the next right toward his corner of the city.

Just near the front of the inn, Forester had passed a dark coloured Dunmer with a rather unkempt beard. He had thought that the Dunmer had given him a strange look. He was fairly certain that he didn't recognise him from anywhere. A few steps further along; he had stolen a quick backward glance. The Dunmer seemed to have noticed as he did so. After that second glance, he was more certain that he didn't know the stranger. He did notice that the stranger was wearing a full robe that seemed to cover whatever he wore beneath it. Just momentarily, Forester wondered if he might be one of those Stendarr cultists. He quickly discarded the notion. He couldn't easily imagine a Dunmer going in for that sort of thing.

Regaining his pace, Forester continued up the street toward his house. He had several things to attend before the day was done. Ahead of him, there was an early evening, an early morning and a long march to Kvatch.

* * *

Ras'Dar had been up and about with the coming dawn. He had assisted the Imperial soldiers and traders as the encampment was broken down outside of the walls of Dune. The sun was just rising in the east, by the time the caravan was ready to set off along the two-day journey back to Riverhold.

As it slowly wound its way northward, the road veered away from the desert into the arid uplands of western Elsweyr. Even that late in the year, the mornings still warmed up quite quickly. There was no shelter from the eastern sun along that open road. Above the trail to the west, the woodlands that capped the low mountains between Elsweyr and Valenwood could be seen in the distance.

An hour out of Dune, the caravan passed the old road to Valenwood. It had been almost twenty years since that road carried travellers. Since the Thalmor of Alinor had seized control of Valenwood to form their new Aldmeri Dominion. The border crossing was said to be patrolled by Thalmor soldiers. No Khajiit ever felt any need to head up there.

About five leagues out from Dune, the forests extended down far enough to cross the road they travelled. It was perhaps a little further than that following the turns of the road. It was only lightly wooded, but it provided some shade. It was the perfect place for the caravan to pause for a short rest along the way. Once they passed that area, there would not be any forest until they neared Seaplace. Most of the remainder of the journey would pass through semi-arid land and open savanna.

It was still early in the afternoon by the time that the caravan reached that lightly wooded area where the mountain forest came down to meet the road. The plan was to stop for just a short break. They would rest for no more than half an hour, then it was back on the road.

The wagons of the caravan pulled up in the shady copse and the traders got out to stretch their legs. The Legion soldiers spread out, finding shady spots to sit and rest for a short while. The road was clear as far as the eye could see in either direction. The likelihood of other travellers along the road was fairly remote. There was more chance of opportunistic bandits or tribal Khajiit hunters being in the area than any traders or travellers. Still, there was no sign of anyone at all about as they settled in to rest.

Ras'Dar had set himself down in the shade, leaning against the trunk of a tree at the western side of the road. He sat by himself ahead of where the wagons had pulled up. As he rested, he had heard two of the Legion soldiers talking about the Five Year War. That had been about eighty years before. Ras'Dar knew only bits and pieces about it. From what he understood, it had been a war over the border between Elsweyr and Valenwood. He couldn't remember who actually started it. He seemed to recall that both sides had claimed it was the other, but he was vague over any further detail. He couldn't actually remember how it had ended either. Only that many Khajiit had died in that war and so had many Bosmer. It was all a very long time before Ras'Dar had come along.

"Don't get too comfortable. We're heading out soon." One of the soldiers had directed the comment at the young Khajiit as he passed by. Ras'Dar said nothing. He was ready to go as soon as everyone else was.

"What's that?" One of the soldiers had called out to another. They were both over the far side of the wagons from where Ras'Dar was sitting.

"What's what?" The other one responded.

"Other there. Something in the woods."

Ras'Dar's attention had been drawn by the comments, but he didn't yet know what they were talking about. He turned to look at the two soldiers. He noticed that they were getting up and looking toward the woods above.

Just as Ras'Dar had spotted two figures in the forest, one of the soldiers had called out a loud warning. "Archers."

"Bloody Altmer. They're…" The other soldier had called out, but his voice was silenced by an arrow to the chest.

Ras'Dar could see that the two archers emerging from the woods were both tall Altmer. They both wore elven armour of a design that he had not seen before. It looked like it might have been a uniform of some sort, like the Imperial soldiers wore.

Everyone was shouting loudly as the Legion soldiers rallied toward the rear of the wagons. The traders were madly scrambling into their wagons.

Ras'Dar had taken hold of his hunting bow, but he was a little uncertain of what he should do. He wasn't paid to fight. He was just along to act as a guide and translator. He couldn't understand why the High Elves had attacked the Legion soldiers, much less what they were even doing in Elsweyr.

Three of the Legion soldiers had produced their bows and had commenced firing back at the intruders. Those first two Altmer archers had been joined by another two archers emerging from the forest behind them. A rain of arrows flew back and forth between the two groups.

Ras'Dar remained hesitant. It looked a fight between enemy soldiers. He was torn between joining the battle and running away. He was just a simple Khajiit and a hunter, not a soldier in someone's army.

One of the trade wagons had just started to move toward Ras'Dar. An arrow suddenly skidded past his foot along the ground. He took a quick step backward, bumping into the tree behind him. He slid around the tree trunk before he dared to take another look in the direction of the fighting. As he did so, he saw that the horse attached to the front wagon had been struck by multiple arrows. The horse reared and flailed before falling down with an arrow protruding from its throat. At least one of those archers must have thought it was more important to stop the traders from leaving than concentrating his aim upon the soldiers.

Just then, another Altmer had appeared behind the archers. He was armoured like the others, but his armour looked a bit different. That new intruder had stepped to one side of the other four. Rather than aiming a bow, he had raised a long staff and pointed it toward the Legion soldiers. A sharp crackling noise startled Ras'Dar as he saw bolts of lightning emerge from the Altmer's weapon, reaching out toward the Imperial soldiers.

Ras'Dar didn't need to think any more about what he should be doing. He turned in the opposite direction from the battle and started running as fast his legs could carry him. An arrow whistled past his head as he took flight. He tried to ignore it, quickly adjusting his course to head into the woods. A second arrow had just narrowly missed him and stuck into the tree he was dodging past. His only plan was to try to place as many trees between him and the archers as possible and keep running like his tail was on fire.

Ras'Dar felt sorry for the Legion soldiers. If they were not already dead, he expected they would be in just a few moments. He felt even more sorry for the traders. There was nothing he could do about it. Ras'Dar was in no position to stand against four armour archers, let alone an Altmer battemage. If he survived in the forest, at least he could tell someone what had happened. That was about the most that he could hope for. The really tricky part would be surviving in the first place.

The Khajiit kept running through the forest. He was hoping that he was right to believe that he was far more agile than the armoured Altmer. That was probably a fair call. It had been quite some time since he'd seen any arrows fly past, but he kept running for a while longer before he dared to pause for a moment.

Ras'Dar finally stopped behind a broad tree trunk in the forest. He held his breath briefly as he angled his ears to listen for any indication of his pursuers. Looking back through the trees, he couldn't see any sign of anyone. The woods were thick enough that he couldn't see any sign of the edge of the forest from there. He realised that he had been running uphill for the past several moments. That meant that he was probably headed west. That was the direction of the border. He was just thinking how that might be a bad idea, not that he had much choice. Just then, he noticed a thin column of smoke rising over the trees to the east. He guessed that the trade wagons had been set on fire. Not a good sign.

Ras'Dar chided himself for pausing for so long. He quickly turned about and started running once again. He adjusted his course more toward what he thought was the direction of north-west. Once he was a little deeper in the forest, he would turn again toward the north. He wasn't all that worried about surviving in the wilderness. He was more worried about not surviving a fight with those Altmer behind him.

As he ran through the forest, Ras'Dar tried to think about what had just happened back there. None of it made much sense to him. In fact, it made no sense at all.

He was thinking that those Altmer should not have been in Elsweyr, but why did they attack like that? Surely they could have just turned about and left. He thought that they looked more like soldiers than like bandits. Bandits wouldn't be burning wagons. Bandits would take the wagons. He decided that they had to be soldiers, but what were they doing there? Did somebody start a war and they forgot to tell him about it?

Something had just occurred to Ras'Dar. What if there were more of them in the forest? What if they were part of some army marching upon Elsweyr? He shook off that idea. He had only seen five of them. Then he changed his mind again. What if he had only seen just the five, but there were actually many more of them? There could be scores of them in the forests below the border and no one would know.

Ras'Dar paused again by the cover of some bushes in the forest. He eased his breathing and listened carefully to the sounds of the forest. Aside from the sounds of some birds in the trees, he couldn't hear anything immediately alarming. He looked about cautiously in each direction. There was nothing to see but more forest. He did notice one thing of importance. That was the obvious trail that he had left in his wake. He didn't know anything about the tracking skills of Altmer soldiers, but he knew it was a trail that he could easily follow.

He decided upon a new plan. Since there was no sign of anyone nearby, he would stop running blindly through the forest. It was time to move more slowly and more carefully. He would leave an obvious trail heading westward. Then he would double back a short distance and try to head northward for a short distance without leaving any obvious tracks. He decided that he should keep changing direction regularly to keep anyone from easily following any trail.

So long as he didn't run into anything too unexpected, Ras'Dar was quietly confident that he could outsmart a group of foreign soldiers in a heavily wooded forest. Still, only one thing was for certain, he wouldn't be sleeping at Seaplace that evening.

* * *

Belwen's eyes opened with a start. She thought she heard a noise. She looked about frantically and listened intently. She was still perched up in the fork of the tree that she had climbed. Whatever it was that might have disturbed her, remained well beyond her field of vision. She had been holding her breath as she listened to the forest. She released a breath as she heard some bird calls off in the distance somewhere.

The dappled sunlight that filtered down through the canopy provided little indication of the time of day. She took a moment trying to figure the position of the sun. She guessed that it must have been sometime around midday. She wondered how long she had been asleep in the tree. She decided that it couldn't have been more than an hour.

She was tired and she was thirsty. She had been on the run since the sun had set the previous day. During the earlier part of the morning, she had found some wild berries. They had looked a lot like berries she had seen in the markets of Arenthia, only smaller. Since she hadn't experienced any ill effects, it seemed that they'd been okay to eat. She was already hungry again and she was still thirsty.

During the previous evening, Belwen had run through the forests east of Arenthia for a short distance. It wasn't all that long before she needed to slow down. Much of the journey seemed to be headed uphill, but the main thing that slowed her down was the darkness. All she could see was trees and more trees. Even then, she could hardly even see them. It was a few hours before the moons had risen high enough to cast some dim glow through the forest canopy. Still, she could barely see much of anything.

Upon a number of occasions, Belwen had stopped her flight and found herself clinging to the trunk of a tree, trembling in fear of the noises of the forest. She hadn't actually seen any wild predators, but she felt certain that they were out there somewhere.

By the time that the morning light had come along, it became perfectly obvious that she had no idea where she was. There was no sign of Arenthia as far as she could see. The sunrise had also made her aware that she had been headed southward for a short while. That was the wrong direction altogether. She quickly turned back toward the east.

Although she had found something to eat during the morning, she had not come across anything resembling a stream or a pond. She knew that she would need to find water if she expected to survive for long. It would be no triumph to escape a Thalmor death sentence, then die in the forest from lack of water.

Upon a number of occasions, she had been startled by birds in the forest. At one point, she had almost jumped out of her skin as a ground pheasant dash from the bushes ahead of her. She had also spotted a small deer picking its way through woods a little later. She had thought that there must be some source of water somewhere nearby if there were animals in the forest.

Belwen was completely out of her element. The other races might have referred to the Bosmer as Wood-Elves, but she had lived her entire life in and about the city. She knew nothing about surviving in the wild.

Several hours of daylight had passed before Belwen had finally paused for a short break. That was when she had climbed that tree and perched herself in the fork to rest. She hadn't really intended to fall asleep.

Since she was now feeling somewhat more rested, she decided that she really should get moving again. Also, she really did need to find some water. She had idly wondered whether she was still in Valenwood. She had no way of knowing. After deciding which way was east, she quickly set off in that direction.

So far, there had been no sign of any Thalmor soldiers in pursuit. Belwen took some tentative comfort from that. She considered that maybe they had not found Volundare yet. If not, then there would be no reason to look for her.

Another thought had then occurred to her. She considered that Thalmor guard at the city gates. If he was actually doing his job properly, then he might have noticed that she had not returned from the stables. Furthermore, if anyone had gone to find Volundare to tell him that his servant had run away… She paused with that thought, as an icy chill crept across her scalp. It suddenly seemed a bit more likely that someone might have discovered Volundare's body during the evening. If that were the case, then maybe they already had started looking for her last night. If they had really wanted to find her, then they might well be in the forest right at that moment. Although she didn't really know much about that sort of thing, she imagined that she had probably left some sort of tracks that they might be able to follow.

A fresh sense of panic threatened to overwhelm her. She hoped that she would find some water soon and maybe even some place safe. Not that she held any notion of where she might find either thing. She only knew that she needed to keep moving.

~O~


	17. Chapter 17

Evening Star

Greg J Miller

~O~

Chapter 17

Tirdas the 24th of Frostfall 4E48

Malcolm Forester had risen well ahead of the dawn that morning. As he finished off the last of the bread in the house, he had been casually thinking about the older days of the Fighter's Guild. As he understood it, up until just a few decades earlier, even the skilled mages and archers were still expected to wear heavy armour in the Guild. Of course, that was long before his time. He couldn't imagine how some of them managed in those days. It certainly didn't suit his style of combat, utilising a combination of blade and magic.

Forester soon put aside his wool gathering as he prepared to leave. He was fully dressed in his mithril armour and ready to head off as soon as it was light enough outside. As usual, he was travelling fairly light. Aside from his fine steel sword and his long ebony dagger, all he carried was that plain leather shoulder bag with just a few essentials.

The sun was still not yet up as he stepped out of his house onto the streets of Skingrad. He needed to get under way quite early if he expected to make it all the way to Kvatch by nightfall.

The journey to Kvatch along The Gold Road was only slightly shorter than the overall distance to the Imperial City. However, the last part of that journey involved climbing the steep and winding road up to where that city sat atop a tall hill. That always made it seem as though it was further.

Aside from the odd city guard still on evening patrol, there wouldn't be anyone else about in The Chapel District at that time of the morning. There might be some people down in The Low Street. Some of the stall operators liked to set up before the morning street traffic. If the early morning cleaners were working that morning, they might be pushing their carts up through the streets of Hightown. None of that affected Forester directly. He quickly headed off down the street for the main gates out of Skingrad.

* * *

Fadren Verelas stirred slightly as he noticed the armoured Imperial man emerge from his house. He had firstly seen that man the previous morning. It was more the case that it was the first time that he had seen him in person. He was quite certain that he was the same man that he seen in that vision that he received at the shrine to Azura. That brief moment outside the inn had passed exactly as he remembered it from the vision. He had yet to gain any understanding of the significance of it, but he felt certain that the Imperial man was important to his task.

Doing his best not be noticed, Fadren had followed the Imperial back to where he lived. It seemed a rather ordinary dwelling for someone that appeared to carry himself as though he was a person of importance. The Dunmer had passed along that street a couple of times, before he selected a subtle place to sit and rest, where he could still see the front of that house.

Fadren had briefly thought about going to meet the stranger, but it didn't feel right. No plausible reason came to mind for that course of action. As with everything he was doing, he expected that some circumstance would arise that seemed perfectly obvious once he was in the moment. Instead, he decided to watch from a distance and wait for that obvious moment.

By the time that darkness had fallen, Fadren had found a better place from which to watch the house. He had slipped into the shadows of the narrow space between two houses across the street from where that Imperial man lived. Some old broken barrels had been jammed into that space near the outer corners of the structures. He sat down behind the barrels and debris. With his robe covering everything but his face he looked a bit like a pile of sacks behind those barrels. Unless anyone came close, he expected to remain unnoticed.

To the best of his knowledge, the Imperial man had not left the house since he saw him go in there earlier. It didn't seem as though there was another entrance to the house. The building looked like it backed up right against the city walls. Puffs of smoke had wafted from the chimney since before darkness had set in. He had also observed the dim glow of lighting from within the house.

No longer than about two hours past sunset, Fadren had noticed a single shadow passing back and forth in the upstairs windows of the house. Shortly afterward, the upstairs lights had been extinguished. He had continued to watch intently. No one had emerged. He guessed that the man might be planning to rise very early the next morning.

Fadren withdrew some cheese from his bag and drank water from his flask. He intended to rest, but sleep only briefly in short bursts later in the evening. He did his best not to get too comfortable. It wouldn't do for him to miss the Imperial man leaving the house.

Aside from a couple of drunkards stumbling home along the streets during the early hours and a bored city guard that passed by only twice, Fadren had not seen any movement upon that street for hours.

Fadren watched the Imperial man step out of his house into the pre-dawn light. He marched purposefully down the street toward the north. Fadren edged his way out from the shadows to see where the man was going. Since there was no one else on the streets, he considered that it might be difficult to remain discreet if he followed the man too closely. He waited until the Imperial was almost out of sight before fully emerging from his hiding place.

Fadren observed the Imperial crossing the walkbridge over the broad street below. At the far side of that bridge, he turned about and then headed down to the street that he had just crossed over. The Dunmer made his way down to the walkbridge. He had arrived there just in time to see the Imperial man passing through the main gates out of the city. Fadren followed the same path down and around to the main gates. He didn't hurry too much, allowing a short while to pass before he also exited the city walls.

The sleepy looking guard at the city gates didn't pay much attention to Fadren as he passed by. Nothing more than an exchange of nods passed between them. It was different from what he was accustomed to in the cities of northern Skyrim.

Fadren walked down from the gates toward the stabling facilities by the road. A young Imperial boy was leading a horse out into the fenced yard, but there was no one else about. Just past the stables, the road split into two directions. The eastward path led back toward the central Imperial districts. Looking eastward, there was no sign of the man he was following. He could not have cleared that gently sloping hill in that short time. The Dunmer looked along the road that curved around to the west. Vineyards lined either side of the road. He had just caught sight of the Imperial man's head bobbing along in the distance over the rows of trellises that obscured his view. It looked like he was leaving the city behind. Evidently, he was headed off to some location to the west.

Fadren started along that road at a moderate pace. He was trying not to close the distance between himself and the Imperial man, but he didn't want to lose him completely. He had briefly debated himself over what he should do. He wasn't certain which thing was more important. Remaining at Skingrad or following the Imperial? He considered that it would be rather difficult to follow the man out on the open road. Nevertheless, something in his gut told him that he should try. Accordingly, he decided to keep following.

The Dunmer noticed the big sign in front of the vineyard he was passing. Surilie Brothers Vineyard, the sign said. He had never heard of the Surilie Brothers wines before he had passed through Helgen and Bruma a few days earlier. It seemed that he had learned of where it came from. Not that it was at all relevant to his task.

Fadren continued along The Gold Road, passing the vineyards, some crop farms and sheep farms. The Imperial man had disappeared out of sight over a hill ahead. He really held little idea of what lay ahead in that direction. Only what the road signs he had passed had indicated. The signs said that Kvatch and Anvil were in that direction. Presumably, they were other towns or cities along that road. He hadn't previously thought of anything beyond Skingrad, since that was his ultimate destination, as far he knew.

About a league of so out of Skingrad, Fadren had noticed something unusual ahead, just off the road to the left. Two huge spires jutted out from the hillside at strange angles. The sharply pointed structures were almost black in colour with dark red about the pointed ends. He had casually wondered what they were. He had not seen anything like that before. He did his best not allow himself to become too distracted.

As Fadren cleared the rise in the road, he had again spotted that Imperial man off in the distance ahead. He was still marching quite purposefully along the road in a westerly direction. His stride seemed to indicate that his destination might be some way off. Fadren wondered if he was headed to either Kvatch or Anvil, or perhaps somewhere else. He would just need to keep following if he expected any answer to that question.

* * *

Some things had not exactly gone according to plan for Ras'Dar. The most important parts of his immediate plans had seemed to work well enough. He had successfully eluded those Altmer soldiers during the previous afternoon. He was fairly certain that he had managed to disguise his tracks as he headed deeper into the forest. He had covered a fair distance by the time that darkness had fallen.

He had been planning to keep a better idea of exactly where he was in relation to the road that he had left behind that afternoon. However, that plan might not have worked as well as he thought. He wasn't about to admit to himself that he was lost. He just didn't know exactly he was.

Of course, Ras'Dar was somewhere in the western forest. The road was somewhere off to the east. He was a fair way up into the mountainous part of that forest, but he was reasonably sure that he had not gone as far as Valenwood. The terrain was still sloping downward toward the east. He understood the border to be somewhere along the top of the low mountains.

During that first afternoon on the run, he had heard a lot of noises in the forest upon many occasions. Of course, he recognised the obvious sounds of birds in the trees or taking flight. It was only the sounds of movement at ground level that had alarmed him. None of it had turned out be the Altmer soldiers that pursued him earlier. He had actually seen a couple of ground pheasants in the forest, but some of the other noises indicated the movement of larger creatures. He had yet to actually see anything that fit that description. If there were smaller animals in the forest, then it stood to reason that there would be larger predators out there as well. He kept that in mind as he made his way through the heavily wooded forest.

As the evening arrived and darkness set in, Ras'Dar had decided it would be better to stop and rest for a while. Like any Khajiit, his night vision was quite good, but still that had its limits. He really was in need of some rest. It would do no good for him to stumble into unexpected danger if he was too tired to deal with it.

Ras'Dar had climbed up a suitable tree. He had chosen one that was not too easy to get up. If it were easy to climb, then it would be just as easy for a predator to climb after him.

Settling into a nicely spaced fork in the branches, he decided that he would doze lightly as he waited for the moons to rise. Once Masser and Secunda had risen high enough to cast some glow over the forest, he would be better rested and there would some better chance to properly see where he was going.

After a few short hours of rest, Ras'Dar had climbed down from his perch and had soon set off again. He had used the position of the moons to try and gauge his bearings, heading off in a north-westerly direction.

During the night, a heavy cloud cover had rolled in from west. Eventually, it had completely obscured the moons and made it too dark to safely continue. Without the glow of the moons, he couldn't estimate his direction with any certainty. Surrendering to the circumstance, the Khajiit decided to find another tree and climbed up to rest for a while.

It soon became obvious that the clouds were not just passing over. Since he had climbed fairly high, Ras'Dar felt reasonable safe up there. Any ground predators were unlikely to spot him that far above the forest floor. Even if they had spotted him, they would need to be good climbers to get near him. Likewise, if those Altmer soldiers were nearby, they would most likely walk right under him without noticing. As he was stuck there a while, he decided to snooze again for a bit.

Some time during the early hours of the morning, Ras'Dar was awoken as he realised that it had started to rain. It was not a heavy rain, but it hardly needed to be to dampen his fur along with his spirits. A light drizzle continued on and off over the remaining hours before the dawn. By the time that it was light enough to head off again, he was thoroughly soaked to the bone.

Ras'Dar continued to pick his way through the forest. As the light rain continued to trickle down from above, he considered two things. The rain would make his older tracks much harder to spot, but it would also make any fresh tracks far easier to notice. He had also been thinking that surely those Altmer soldiers would have given up by then. After all, how important could it have been to find and kill one small Khajiit in the forest?

The rain had finally stopped at some point during the morning, but the low clouds remained, as though promising to deliver more rain at any moment. The damp Khajiit continued onward through the woods. He might have like to have settled in by a roaring campfire, but that would have been a terrible idea in the circumstances.

A little later in the morning, Ras'Dar had spotted a small bear ahead in the woods. It was one of those darker coloured ones. The kind that didn't grow quite so large. Still, since it had not noticed him, he had no desire to draw its attention. He had circled around in a broad arc to avoid the bear completely.

At around midday, Ras'Dar had heard a loud crackling noise in the distance. It sounded like it came from somewhere off to the south. He thought that it sounded just like the noise from the weapon that the Altmer battlemage had wielded. He supposed that it also sounded a bit like the noise of an old tree splitting and falling in the forest. However, he would have expected to hear the noise of something landing hard afterward. Either way, he was reasonably sure that it sounded like it was a long way off.

If only just to make himself feel better, he decided to head north for a while. After that, he would turn back toward the east. He was beginning to wonder if he had travelled so far that he was near to the border with Cyrodiil. As the afternoon wore on, Ras'Dar started to seriously doubt that he would make it to Seaplace before the day was done.

* * *

So far, Belwen's second day after leaving Arenthia behind had been little better than the first. At least, she was still alive. Still, she wasn't all that convinced that circumstance would hold.

At some point during the previous day, she realised that she must have crossed the border into Elsweyr. She was no longer climbing upward through the forest. The land ahead of her was mostly sloping downward to the east. The position of the sun told her that she was headed eastward for the most part. The rest of it was just reasonable assumption.

As far she knew, the border between Valenwood and Elsweyr was somewhere near the top of those low mountains. If she was headed down the eastern slopes, then she thought that she must have been in Elsweyr. Unless of course she was actually further north than she thought. She supposed it was possible that she was in Cyrodiil. Really, she didn't know where she was. She only hoped it was far from the reach of any pursuit of soldiers from Arenthia.

Later in the day, Belwen had stumbled upon a small spring in a hollow. It wasn't much to look at. She could have easily missed it altogether. Water bubbled up into a small pond no more than a single pace across. She stayed at that pond for a short while as she drank her fill. She drank so much water that she nearly made herself sick. Still, she had no idea when she would next come across some more.

Only a short distance downhill from that spring, she came across two bushes with dark coloured berries similar to the ones she found earlier. At least it was something that she could eat. She packed a few berries into that package that she carried, so that she would have some left for later.

She was a little less hungry and thirsty by the time that darkness approached, but she was no less tired or frightened. Throughout that day, she had often been startled by every little noise that she heard. Often it had only been the call of a bird or the flap of wings as one took flight. At other times, she had not known what it was that she heard.

Just as it was becoming dark, she had heard the frightening noises of some sort of wild animals to the south. She had adjusted to her course sharply northward for a while.

It soon became too dark to see where she was going. She remembered resting in that tree earlier during the day. She decided that it was probably a better idea to rest than continue stumbling through the forest. Finding a suitable tree, she climbed up until she found a place she could lay back without fear of falling out. She hoped that whatever wild animals roamed the forest were not the kind that climbed the trees. Without really intending to, she had soon fallen asleep in the tree.

At some during that night, Belwen had awoken with a start. Something was on her face. She almost fell from the tree. She nearly dropped that package that she had been holding since she ran into the forest. She quickly realised that it was just droplets of water falling from above. It was just starting to rain. There was nothing much she could do about it. She could get wet sitting in the tree or wander in the darkness just as wet. If the moons were in the sky, they were well hidden behind heavy cloud cover. It was too dark to think about leaving that tree and there was no other place to shelter anyway.

The Bosmer just stayed up in the tree and hoped that the rain would pass. She was soon feeling cold and wet and even more miserable than before. Several times, she must have fallen asleep for short periods. There was nothing to mark the passing of time.

Belwen opened her eyes to learn that it was light in the forest. She couldn't actually tell if the sun was up. It was still raining lightly and what she could see of the sky through the canopy of the forest was only gray cloud.

At least she wasn't thirsty when she climbed down from the tree to set off again. She had drunk from the water trickling down the trunk of the tree. Without the sun in the sky, she was relying upon the general slope of the terrain as she guessed her direction. Either east or north was where she thought she wanted to go.

The rain eventually eased and stopped during the morning, but the heavy cloud cover seemed to remain. She was still soaked through. She expected that it would take hours before she felt dry, but that was probably the least of her concerns.

Belwen had wondered how far that forest extended. She had heard that there was a huge desert in Elsweyr. She had never before seen anything like that. She imagined that it must have been a long way off from that forest.

She had also heard that most of the northern parts of Elsweyr were more like Valenwood. That certainly seemed to be the case, if that's where she was. She hadn't discounted the possibility that she had wandered into the south of Cyrodiil.

In passing, she had idly thought that it might be better to go to Cyrodiil. However, until she made it to a road or some kind of township or settlement, she really wouldn't know where she was or where she was going. As far as she could tell, all of those things must have been a fair way off from where she was. She would just need to keep moving.

With the day wearing on, Belwen fully expected that she would be passing another night up a tree. Of course, that was provided that nothing or no one had killed her before then.

* * *

Fadren Verelas had been following that Imperial man all day. Upon a number of occasions, he had thought that he might have lost him. However, each time that he had thought that, he eventually caught sight of him again in the distance, still following the same road.

During the morning, Fadren had come across the body of a dead man by the side of the road just near a bridge over a gully. From general appearance, he thought that he could have been a bandit or outlaw of some kind. It was obvious that he had been killed by a sword. It also looked like he hadn't been dead all that long. It seemed a reasonable guess that the bandit had tried to attack the Imperial man and then been killed by him. He took note of that likelihood.

Only about a league past that bridge, Fadren had met an Imperial soldier on horseback travelling in the opposite direction. The soldier had offered a friendly greeting, but the Dunmer had noted that he kept one hand near the hilt of his sword. The soldier had asked him if he was headed for Kvatch.

Fadren had said that he was. "I'll admit that I've never been there before. I'm meant to meet with an old friend there."

"You're headed the right way." The soldier offered. "Just keep following the road. You'll eventually come to the turn off to Kvatch. It's well signed. You can't miss it."

"My thanks to you, sera." Fadren paused before deciding to continue. "I should tell you… there's a dead man back down the road by a bridge. He looks like he might have been a bandit that took on someone better than he was. It's not my doing. I just thought you should know. Just so you don't feel the need to come after me for it."

"That's alright." The soldier grinned. "I just spoke to someone from the Fighter's Guild, back behind me. He told me all about it. Some road bandits are smart enough to avoid Legion patrols, but too stupid to recognise a Guild Fighter when one comes along."

Fadren just nodded as he took in that information.

"You take care out on the roads." The soldier offered a friendly grin before he continued on his way.

The Dunmer collected his thoughts as he quickly resumed his westward march. He had just learned that the Imperial man was from the Fighters Guild. At least, he presumed that was whom the soldier was referring to.

From what Fadren had picked up in Bruma, it seemed that the Fighter's Guild was some sort of collective of roaming mercenaries that took contracts authorised by the local rulers. It seemed reasonable to expect that the Imperial man must have been a formidable warrior if he was with that Fighter's Guild. That might either make him a valuable ally or a dangerous foe. Fadren still didn't really know why he was following him or how he fit into what he was doing for Azura.

During the earlier part of the afternoon, the stone walls of a city upon a tall hill came into view in the distance. Fadren expected that it must have been Kvatch. It was difficult to tell just how large it was from that distance.

At one point, Fadren had come around a bend in the road to learn that he had managed to close the distance upon that man from the Fighter's Guild. He had cautious ducked in behind a bush and waited to allow that distance to increase.

As the afternoon progressed, that city upon the hill seemed to grow no closer. In part, that seemed a bit of an illusion. It might have been more the case that he had underestimated the size of the tall walls of the city. Still, the road appeared to wind around to the south rather than head directly for the walled city. It almost seemed as though the road might not even go to that city.

A number of unmarked trails had led from the road along the way. The soldier had told him that the road was well signed, so he felt justified in ignoring those sidetracks. He did pass a road sign nearer to the base of the tall hill. That side road was pointed to some place called Shetcombe. The other signs still indicated both Kvatch and Anvil along the main road.

A few leagues further along, another sign indicated that it led to Kvatch Mines. The other signs still indicated that he was headed for Kvatch, but the road seemed to be circling around that destination. By that time, the sun was quite low in the sky. He had passed another Imperial soldier on horseback just near there. Another brief conversation passed. The rider advised him that the turn to Kvatch wasn't far.

Just as the light of the day was starting to fade, Fadren finally reached the fork in the road that he had been told about. According to the signs, the main road continued westward to Anvil. The turn off doubled back to the east toward Kvatch.

Fadren had firstly looked along the westward stretch of road for any sign of the Imperial man. He was not in sight as far as he could tell. He couldn't see him along the road to Kvatch either. Just when he thought that he had lost him, he spotted the Imperial man climbing a rise along the winding road leading up the hill toward the city.

At least he knew that he was still headed the right way. Of course, that was assuming that he was actually meant to be following that man. He only had his instincts to guide him at that point. Still, that feeling in his gut told him that the Imperial man would lead him to where he needed to be. The Dunmer believed that Azura knew exactly what he was doing and where he was going. Fadren imagined that it was she that actually guided his instincts.

* * *

Just as he had anticipated, it was dark as Malcolm Forester passed through the main gates into Kvatch. Even at night, that city was reasonably familiar to him. The main street up the middle of Kvatch was well lit by oil lamps all the way to the castle.

Forester had glanced briefly toward the local Fighter's Guild office just a short distance along the street on his left. He felt no urgent need to visit. He certainly didn't want to make use of the accommodations to stay there. He considered dropping in the next day.

He proceeded along the broad thoroughfare, passing the Great Chapel of Akatosh on his right until he came to the Survivors Inn. That was his preferred place to stay when he was in Kvatch. It reminded him a little of the Oak and Crosier in Chorrol. It had that same sort of Colovian aspect and atmosphere to it.

Passing through the doors into the tavern, the Survivors Inn seemed just a little busy, but not too terribly crowded. Forester made his way directly for the main service bar. The first order of business would be securing accommodations for the evening. After that, he would see to other needs.

With the key to a room in his pocket, a hot meal and a drink in each hand, Forester was prepared to leave the bar and find a suitable place to sit in the tavern.

"Forester. What brings you back to Kvatch so soon?" The male voice had come from off to his side.

He turned to see Merandil. He knew the older Altmer from the local Guild office. He was the senior Guild Fighter, the second in charge at the local Guildhall. Forester had not noticed him in the tavern as he came in. Merandil was dressed only in plain clothing.

"Just passing through for a short visit." Forester dissembled.

"Have you only just arrived?" Merandil asked.

"Yes. Only just now."

Merandil had gestured to the older woman at the bar. She seemed to know exactly what he wanted and started pouring from a wine bottle. "You look like you're on your own. Won't you join me at my table?"

"Of course. It would be a pleasure." Forester was actually intending to ask around about the Vigilants of Stendarr in Kvatch. It seemed like as good as opportunity as any to start.

"Excellent." Merandil settled, taking possession of his wine.

Forester followed Merandil over to his table by the western wall of the tavern and they took their seats. Merandil had insisted that Forester finish his meal before it became cold.

Merandil had commented upon the skill of the musician playing the lute over by the fireplace. He had also commented upon the mild weather of late. It was not until Forester had almost finished his meal that he spoke of any business. He had casually asked how the Skingrad Guild office was going of late. Forester had conceded that there was little work on at the moment. He had mentioned that even though one of the younger Guild Fighters had recently resigned, there was still little to do. Merandil had lamented that things had also been fairly quiet in Kvatch, but suggested that it was probably a good thing. He proposed that if things were too busy, then they weren't doing their job properly.

Forester advanced the conversation further afield. "I had recently visited a friend and fellow Guild-mate over in Cheydinhal. It was also rather quiet over there."

"It is almost winter." Merandil responded.

"I did assist with some ogres near one of the local settlements." Forester noted.

Merandil nodded over his goblet. "They do tend to come down from the mountains during the colder months. More so, if it's been a dry season."

"I heard a little about the Vigilants of Stendarr over in Cheydinhal." Forester fished.

"Oh, yes?" Merandil indicated his attention.

"The Count of Cheydinhal has provided a place for them and he has them working with the local Fighter's Guild and the Chapel of Arkay."

Merandil seemed pensive. "Not so surprising, really. Given what happened." Of course, he was referring to the incident with that flying city from an Oblivion realm. He didn't need to say any more.

Forester continued. "I hadn't actually noticed them in Kvatch before. I'd only heard mention of them from the odd passing comment. I had heard that Count Hassildor would not allow them in Skingrad and not much more than that. Not until recently."

Merandil glanced at Forester over the top of his goblet as he took a sip. "You've not asked about them before."

"Well, it's only just started to catch my attention."

"I have no problem with them or the work they're doing."

Forester hesitated, taking measure of the Altmer. "What is it they are doing?"

Merandil took another long sip from his wine, then rested his goblet back upon the table. "I was there." He paused to collect his memories. "Just a little more than forty-eight years past. I was there when the Daedric hordes of Oblivion destroyed our city. I remember the Battle of Kvatch. I was there with the Champion when we found the body of Count Goldwine in the castle. I saw what the Daedra did to our city, to our people."

Forester had always known that Merandil was steadfastly loyal to Kvatch, but he'd not before heard him speak of the Oblivion Crisis.

Merandil had paused for a moment. He glanced up at Forester. "You do know that young Tertius Matius from the Guild?"

Forester nodded in the affirmative.

Merandil continued. "I served with his grandfather during all of that business. We barely escaped with our lives. Many others were not so fortunate. We lost a great many good men and women fighting back the Daedra." He paused for a breath. "I served with the Kvatch Guard under two different counts before I joined the Fighter's Guild. I was here during the rebuilding of the city. If not for the support and gold that came from Chancellor Ocato and that Count that he appointed, Kvatch might not even be here." After another pause. "If the Vigilants of Stendarr want to keep Daedra worshippers and the like out of Kvatch, then I'm perfectly fine with that."

It seemed quite clear to Forester where Merandil stood on the matter. He tried to frame his interest more as curiosity than suspicion. "Where does the Count stand?"

Merandil took another sip of wine before responding. "The Count has sanctioned the Vigilants in Kvatch. As long they don't break the laws of the Empire or the County, they have his support."

Forester absorbed that information. He continued trying to sound curious. "How does that work with the local Fighter's Guild? Is there any kind of… clash?"

Merandil's expression appeared dismissive. "No. It's only been a few months since the Count voiced his support, but it seems to be working fine. If the Vigilants need to deal with matters of Daedra worshippers, vampires or the like, we generally send someone to assist them. If they learn of anything that is more our area of duty, then they pass it on."

Forester nodded. "I see. So, they have their own place in the city, then?"

Merandil finished his drink. "The Vigilants have a little place over on East Street. Most of them are out at the moment. I sent out Rena Maplewood and Rolden to help. They're looking into rumours of a cult of necromancers with Daedric leanings."

"What will they do?" Forester prompted.

"That depends upon what they find." Merandil left it at that.

"I suppose so." Forester accepted.

Merandil rose from his seat. "That's it for me. I expect that I'll see you tomorrow at the Guildhall?"

Forester was slow to answer. "Well, yes. I won't actually be reporting for duty, but I will check in, of course."

"I'll see you tomorrow, then." Merandil took his leave.

"Of course. Tomorrow." Forester returned, idly.

Forester's mind was busy sorting through what he had just learned. He was still surprised that he had passed through Kvatch so often without knowing any of it before. He must have remained at that table for quite a while before he finally rose. He was only moved by the pressing call of nature. He quickly found the bathroom facilities before retiring to his rented room upstairs.

Although he was rather tired, he lay upon the bed for quite some time, just going over his thoughts. At some point, he had fallen asleep, but he didn't sleep quite so peacefully.

~O~


	18. Chapter 18

Evening Star

Greg J Miller

~O~

Chapter 18

Turdas the 26th of Frostfall 4E48

At least it hadn't rained during the evening. That's what Belwen had been thinking as she stirred in the dim light of the approaching dawn. She was up in a tree, just like she had been the previous two nights. It had also rained just lightly during that second night that she passed up a tree. It had only been a few passing showers, but it was enough to soak her all over again. To make matters worse, a wolf had passed by underneath her at one point. She had held her breath in fear as the creature sniffed about the area below her. It had eventually moved on, but she feared that it might not have gone too far. As it passed, she did not see it again, but she had heard the sounds of howling wolves off in the distance during the following day.

She might have been feeling dry after her third night of sleeping in the trees, but she was still feeling stiff and sore. Added to that, she was hungry and thirsty again.

Belwen had just remembered that she thought she heard noises of forest creatures nearby during the night. She tried to determine whether it was something that she remembered from a dream, or whether it was from when she was awake. She thought about the wolf from the previous night. She remained quiet as she tried to look about in each direction. As far as she could see, there was no obvious sign of anything or anyone about. Of course, she could only see just so far through the thick woodland.

The coming dawn had brought an increased level of noise from the various birds of the forest. Some were chirpers. Some made louder calls of various sorts. There was also a noise that sounded vaguely like the wind rustling the leaves of the trees. Belwen had noted that there didn't seem to be any other sign of wind, just as that noise had stopped. She wondered if the sound might have been caused by a bird or some other forest creature.

"This one suggests you stay very quiet and very still."

Belwen's heart skipped a beat. She nearly fell out of the tree as the box tumbled from her grasp to the forest floor below. Her widened eyes had widened even more as she saw the Khajiit up above her. A male Khajiit was perched upon the branches of another tree that reached to a position above where she had passed the night. He held a bow at the ready, an arrow pointed directly at her.

"Who? Who… who are you?" Belwen managed to get out.

"This one will be asking the questions, I think. Yes?" The Khajiit waved his bow slightly to affirm the advantage of his position.

Belwen stared back in fear. Her mouth remained open, but no words emerged.

"Khajiit thinks you are not one of those High Elves he has seen. Much too small. You look to be Bosmer, yes?"

Belwen nodded, afraid to speak again.

"Khajiit finds a Bosmer sleeping in a tree of the forest. It has no weapons. Perhaps there are crafty magicks to use against unaware Khajiit, yes?"

Belwen shook her head, hoping that she understood the question.

"Hmm. Khajiit is puzzled. Why would Bosmer be sleeping in a tree, so far away from any place… in the middle of this forest?"

Belwen realised that he was actually expecting an answer. "I… I ran way."

"Ran away. Ran away, from where?" The Khajiit's eyes seemed to narrow.

Belwen slowly pointed in a direction, then changed her mind and pointed in a slightly different direction. "I… I ran way from Arenthia." She wasn't sure if the cat understood. "It's in Valenwood. Just over the mountains."

Ras'Dar had some idea of where Arenthia was. Though not exactly from where he was at that moment, since he wasn't exactly sure of where he was at that moment. "Why?"

"Why?" Belwen repeated.

"Why is Bosmer running away?"

"I was a slave. Of those Thalmor… the Altmer… High Elves."

Ras'Dar relaxed the draw upon his bow. "If Bosmer is no friend of the High Elves, then this one has no need to point the bow, yes?"

"Yes. I mean, no. I mean…" Belwen wasn't sure what to say to the strange Khajiit.

"Perhaps, it would be better to climb down from the trees, yes?" Ras'Dar put away his bow and started to make his way down toward the ground.

Belwen wasn't sure what to think. The Khajiit seemed to have decided that she was not a threat. That didn't necessarily mean the reverse was true. Still, she didn't have much choice in that circumstance but to hope that the Khajiit meant her no harm. She started to climb down from the tree.

By the time that Belwen reached the ground, the Khajiit was already crouching by a tree trunk examining something in the leaves of the forest floor. Belwen stepped over to where the box had fallen and picked it up. The package appeared undamaged from the fall. The box was still closed. She didn't open it to check inside.

The Khajiit spoke as he brushed at the leaves on the ground. "A wolf passed this way. Some time yesterday. Marked this tree, then headed east."

Belwen looked at the leaves. She couldn't see anything.

"How is a box more important than a hidden dagger?" The Khajiit stood and took a step toward Belwen.

Belwen tensed and edged back a step.

"This one means no harm." The Khajiit seemed to smile. However, the display of his feline fangs did little to put the girl at ease. "Where is Bosmer running to?"

"I… I don't know." Belwen answered. "I don't even know where I am."

"Bosmer is in the forest. In the west of Elsweyr."

"Well… I thought that."

"Bosmer is a long way from any place. Unlikely to make it alone." He paused to think a moment. "Khajiit has seen unfriendly High Elves in the forest. Might be better to come with this one, but only if you are quiet and only if you make promise not to use that dagger on Khajiit."

Belwen had looked down at her thigh. Although her dress was dirty and dishevelled, she could see no indication of the dagger that she had strapped there. "How do I know I can trust you?"

"Khajiit is no High Elf. Bosmer can come with this one, or take chance in the forest."

Belwen remained nervous. "Where are you going?"

"This one is headed for Seaplace. A town of Elsweyr." The Khajiit waved his paw in the general direction of east.

"Where is it, this town? How far away?" Belwen need to go somewhere. A town in Elsweyr sounded like as good a place as any.

The Khajiit glanced eastward. "This one is not so sure."

"Are you also lost?"

"Khajiit is never lost." The cat's expression seemed odd. He might have been angry or something like that. It was difficult to tell. "Just not so sure of this part of the forest. Seaplace is in that direction, but could be a fair way off."

Belwen had just noticed the flask on the Khajiit's belt. "I am very thirsty. Do you have some water?"

Ras'Dar reached to unhook the flask. "Bosmer goes off into forest without water? Not very clever. Not very clever, at all." He handed the flask to her.

Belwen took a few lengthy sips before handing the flask back. "Thank you."

"Bosmer is ready to go, yes?"

"Stop calling me that. My name is Belwen. And yes, I'm ready to go."

The Khajiit looked at her oddly. His ears twitched. "Belwen. Belwen, yes?" He repeated the name. "This one is called Ras'Dar."

"Rastar." Belwen tried to say his name.

"No, no. Ras'Dar." He tried to say it more slowly.

"Rasdar."

Ras'Dar shook his head. "Belwen is not very good with Khajiit names. It is a good thing that Ras'Dar speaks the common tongue so well."

Belwen said nothing.

"If big wolf headed east, might be better to go north for a short while." Ras'Dar started heading off in that direction.

Belwen was taken by surprise. She didn't realise that he was going. She quickly rushed to head after him.

* * *

Malcolm Forester rose just shortly after the dawn. He was planning a little excursion for the day, but he wouldn't be going all that far from Kvatch. He didn't need to rush too much, but he did want to get under way reasonably early.

After visiting the bathroom facilities down the hall from his room, he dressed in his armour and gathered his other equipment. He considered going down to the tavern to see if he could acquire something to eat before heading out. Hopefully, it wasn't too early for that.

During the previous day, Forester had risen a little later, then made his way down the street to the Kvatch Fighter's Guild. After a friendly chat with the old Bosmer porter, he headed up to see the local Guild Head. She was also a Bosmer of some years. Both of them had been with that Guildhall since the rebuilding of the city. Back when Merandil was still with the Kvatch Guard. The old Bosmer porter had retired from active duty when the previous porter departed, some ten years back. He still helped out with the training of the younger Guild Fighters on occasion, but that was about the full extent of his activity those days.

Just as he had indicated to Merandil the evening before, Forester had only checked in with the Guild to advise of his presence in the city. He wasn't reporting for active duty. The Guild Head didn't appear terribly concerned. She had casually asked about activity in Skingrad. She had also made mention of that Synod contract with some measure of open disdain. It seemed that she had no trouble discouraging any of her own people from taking an interest.

Afterward, Forester had dropped in at the local College of Whispers over on Mages Street. He had planned to visit a casual acquaintance. As it passed, his friend was not actually there. However, from speaking with the elderly Altmer woman at the specialist's counter, he had picked up that there was a general sense of mistrust among the mages with regard to the Vigilants of Stendarr. The only reason that he'd not heard much of that before, was because he hadn't been asking. He imagined that there might be a lot of things that he'd previously missed, only because he wasn't paying it any mind.

Forester passed the rest of that day casually poking about the city. He had wandered about the shops and open markets up the top of Main Street near the bridge to the castle. Some passing conversations with the merchants had added further detail to what he knew.

He had also wandered about each of the other taverns and inns of Kvatch. Most of what he had learned was only of the general disposition of the citizens of Kvatch toward the Vigilants of Stendarr in their city. That was broadly mixed. Some of them were fairly supportive of the idea. There were others that felt otherwise. Many people didn't really seem to care one way or the other, as long as it didn't adversely affect them in any fashion.

Forester had taken note of that House of the Vigilants over on East Street. It was up the far end from Old Town Square, on the corner of East and Boldon. He remembered that some of the older folk still referred to Boldon Street as Slum Street. It was still one of the poorest sections of town, though not exactly quite that roughshod as years gone by. It was also not all that far from where his former wife and son lived.

Later in that afternoon, Forester had spotted his son, Mattias, in the street. He was walking with a group other lads of similar age. Just as he had previously promised to Raesa, Forester kept his distance from the boy, altering his path accordingly. It remained unlikely that Mattias would recognise his father, but he still considered it unwise to test that premise.

Throughout all that day, the thing that interested Forester most, he had heard right at the beginning of the day. He had learned that the Vigilants and Guild Fighters had gone to the ruins of Dasek Moor. That location was not that far from the city.

Forester had again met with Merandil in the tavern that evening. He had learned that Maplewood and Rolden were still out with the Vigilants. Merandil didn't seem that surprised. He suspected that they had might have gone to investigate other locations in the area. It was after Merandil had left, that Forester had decided what he would be doing the next morning.

Forester was still lost in thought as he finished a bowl of broth and then made his way out the tavern. He intended to make his way down to Dasek Moor and see what the Vigilants might have done there. Since those two Guild Fighters were meant to be with them, he wasn't terribly concerned over running into them.

* * *

Fadren Verelas had noticed the bearded Imperial man come down the stairs to the tavern of the Survivors Inn. Fadren was sitting quietly in the far corner nursing a mug of ale with the appearance of minding his own business. He had previously removed his robes, exposing his plain clothing. There was no disguising his dark beard. Perhaps even more so, since most of the Dunmer in Cyrodiil tended to opt for a clean-shaven appearance. Nonetheless, he did nothing to draw attention to himself. The Imperial man had not even noticed him. He seemed more caught up his own thoughts.

Fadren had been observing that Imperial man almost since he had arrived in Kvatch. He had not been sure where the Imperial went the first evening. After entering the gates to the city, Fadren had taken a bit of a walk along the main streets to gain some familiarity with the place. He had spotted the Fighters Guild building in the main street not far from the gates, with its red banners bearing crossed swords behind a shield. He had also noted three taverns and a lodging house as he walked the streets. He imagined that the Imperial could have gone to any one of those places or even to one of the houses in the city.

The Dunmer had briefly gone into a small tavern called The Dog and Duck. It seemed like the least likely place that he would find the Imperial man. It was not one of the more distinguished looking places of the city. Fadren had only stayed there long enough to take a meal, then he returned to the streets.

He had settled into a spot in the shadows of the large temple located in the main street of the city. There was a low wooden fence just to one side where he could remain fairly inconspicuous. By the time that dawn approached, he had shifted to a spot around by the front steps of the temple. From there, he had a good view of the main street. He could see the city gates, the Fighter's Guild building and several other likely places along the street.

By the time that there were several other people out on the streets, Fadren had spotted the Imperial man emerging from the inn down the street. He had proceeded down the broad street heading directly for the Fighter's Guild. About half an hour passed before he came out of that building. Afterward, the Imperial had walked up and down the street visiting various shops and open market stalls. He appeared to be taking his time at each place. He seemed more interested in conversation than making purchases.

The Dunmer had found it rather difficult to remain inconspicuous in that city. The broad streets of Kvatch didn't really lend themselves to sneaking about. Most of the streets were fairly straight and neatly laid out. Most parts of the city did not seem quite so old as the stone walls that surrounded it. Aside from the castle, the temple, and just a few other buildings, much of the city seemed as though it had been built no more than a few decades earlier. If it hadn't been for the other people on the streets, Fadren might have found it even more difficult to continue observing the Imperial man.

Fadren had tried to apply a few things that an acquaintance had told him back in Solitude. He had known a fellow Dunmer by the name of Daras. That was back before he had met Aras Fals. Fadren had known that Daras was a bit of a rogue. He had thought that he was probably a thief of some sort, but as long as it didn't affect him directly, he tried to ignore that likelihood. Still, some of the things that Daras used to say seemed appropriate to Fadren's current activities. Daras would often spout a number of anecdotal comments over a tankard. Several applied to Fadren's circumstance, but one in particular stood out in his mind. It went something like, 'unless you are actually hiding from someone, the best way to avoid being noticed, is not to try too hard to avoid being noticed'.

Accordingly, Fadren had taken off the hooded robe. He walked the streets in a casual fashion, doing his best to look like he belonged and he knew where he was going. As the day wore on, he had observed the Imperial man visiting each of the other taverns and inns of Kvatch, including that place that Fadren had visited the previous evening. He had also wandered about the houses of the northern end of the city for a while. In fact, it had seemed as though he was just wandering about the whole of Kvatch. Fadren had thought that the Imperial might have been looking for someone or something.

Late in the day, the Imperial had eventually returned to that inn. Fadren had waited until it was dark before he decided to also go inside. Several other people had entered the tavern during the time that he waited. As Fadren approached the bar of the tavern, he had noticed that the bearded Imperial had just finished speaking with a tall Altmer. He then walked through the tavern and ascended the stairs. Presumably, he had a room upstairs.

Fadren had passed the rest of the evening listening to the music and passing conversations of the people in the tavern. Nursing an ale or two, he remained in the far corner of the tavern throughout the night. He had allowed himself to doze lightly a few times, but tried to remain alert as the morning approached. It was not all that long past the dawn, when the Imperial man came back down into the tavern.

Fadren waited for the Imperial to leave the tavern. He waited another few moments before he followed. Although it was still quite early, he suspected that the man might be going to the Fighter's Guild again. However, it seemed that he was headed directly for the city gates. He wondered if that meant he was heading back to Skingrad.

He allowed the distance between them to increase before heading for the city gates out of Kvatch. The Imperial was just disappearing from view as Fadren emerged outside the walls. Discreetly following that man was again becoming difficult. He had paused by the stabling facilities to don his dark robe and to allow some further distance to grow between them.

In due course, Fadren descended the winding road down from Kvatch toward the land below. Upon reaching The Gold Road, the Imperial man had turned eastward, back in the direction that led to Skingrad. Fadren followed a good and lengthy distance behind.

Almost two hours out from Kvatch, the Imperial man had stopped along a rise in the road. He looked out to the south, then left the road and headed downhill. Once Fadren was sure that he wasn't just stepping away from the road for a moment, he proceeded along to that point.

Just a short way from the road, Fadren could see some sort of stone ruins. It seemed to be mostly overgrown by bushes and long grass. There was no sign of the bearded Imperial man. He presumed that he must have entered the ruins somewhere.

Cautiously, Fadren edged his way down the hill a short distance. He could see some broken walls a little further down the hill. It seemed to be the ruins of some sort of ancient fort or keep. He then spotted the relevant part of the stone ruins. There was a section that was half buried by the hillside. An exposed stone wall faced the south with a heavy wooden door. The door was closed, but there were lots of footprints around it.

Fadren did not think it wise to go in there. Instead, he found a nearby hiding place and settled in to wait.

* * *

Ras'Dar slowed and came to halt. Belwen had almost run into him.

Belwen spoke quietly. "What is it?"

The Khajiit glared at her.

Belwen thought his expression indicated anger. She wasn't really sure. She decided that he probably wanted her to remain silent, so she did.

The Khajiit's ears shifted and twitched as he listened to the noises of the forest. Off somewhere in the distance, the mournful howling of wolves could be heard. He continued to tilt his head this way and that until it stopped.

After a moment, Belwen whispered. "How far are they?"

Ras'Dar turned to face her. "This one cannot say. It seems like just the one."

"But it sounds like two or three." Belwen suggested.

Ras'Dar smiled at her comment. "The lone wolf sounds like that for good reason. Not every creature of the forest is as clever as Khajiit."

Belwen ignored the comment, uncertain of whether it was intentionally directed toward her. "What should we do?"

Ras'Dar waved his paw eastward. "Big wolf is somewhere to the east. Ras'Dar says we circle around further to the north. Better to avoid the wolf if we can, yes?"

"Isn't that likely to take us further from that town?"

Ras'Dar glanced at Belwen before turning to face the north. "This one thinks it better to make it to Seaplace a little bit later, than not make it at all. There is always tomorrow, yes?"

Belwen just fell into step behind the Khajiit as he started off in a northerly direction. It wasn't as though she had any better ideas. She had guessed that it had to be sometime around midday, or just past that time. She began to expect that she would be spending another night in the forest. She took some measure of comfort from the fact that she was with an armed Khajiit that seemed to mostly know what he was doing. She had become rather more confident that she might actually survive her escape from Arenthia after all.

* * *

With some minor effort, Malcolm Forester pushed aside the heavy wooden door. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the harsh sunlight. He turned around to push the heavy door back into place, leaving it just as he had found it.

It seemed that the ruins of Dasek Moor had not really provided him with any measure of fresh insight. He wasn't certain whether he should have been relieved or disappointed.

Dasek Moor was one of those old ruins that had served as a fort during times long past. It had been abandoned centuries ago. At the least, it had not been used for its intended purpose for the longest of times.

It was the kind of place sometimes attracted outlaws or other various kinds of troublemakers. Whenever that circumstance became apparent, some effort would be made to clean the place out and that door would again be boarded over.

This time, it seemed that some sort of Daedra worshippers or necromancers had decided that it was a good place to set up. In the first larger chamber down on the right, Forester had found something indicating that it had been used for rituals of some sort. There was lots of candle wax, bones, both human and animal, and what looked like Daedric sigils marking the stone floor and walls. He didn't recognise the specific symbols. Only that they looked like Daedric markings that he'd seen before.

Of course, there had been no other sign of anyone down there at that time. There were no fresh bodies or indication of a recent struggle. The dust appeared undisturbed further back. As far as he could tell, no one had gone much further than that first chamber during recent times. Presumably, there was no one there when the others came to investigate.

Footprints in the dust seemed to indicate that five or six people had been there just before him, either yesterday or the day before. Other than that, there was no other obvious sign of those Vigilants and the Guild Fighters. As far as he knew, they had not yet returned to Kvatch. He considered the obvious question. Where did they go next? He really had no idea of the answer to that question. The obvious tracks through the grass had only led to and from the road. Since there was nothing else to see, he made his way back up the hill to the road and then started off back for Kvatch.

Forester hadn't noticed the robed Dunmer hiding among the branches of a tree not that far from the road. He didn't have any idea that he would be trailed all the way back to the city.

* * *

Alex and Monika were back in The Great Forest with Francois Montrose and Vinnus Odiil. It was the last day of that contract to cull the wolves around Chorrol. Over the past few days, they had completed a good sweep of the areas about Odiil Farms and the Weynon Priory settlement. They had also made some good headway into the forest east of Chorrol during the previous day. They had continued onward for a few hours into the evening before returning to the city.

Early in the morning, they had again set out into the forest. Since they would be headed more deeply into The Great Forest, the four remained together in a single group. It would have been a bit too dangerous to split up. Although they were after wolves, there were a number of more formidable creatures to consider in the middle of the forest.

During the morning, they had taken down two more wolves. That brought the full total up to thirty-seven for the week. It was quite a respectable tally for the effort. Hopefully, it would make some difference.

By the afternoon, they had travelled a fair way into the forest. Upon occasion, they had heard the howls of wolves off in the distance somewhere. It served to encourage them to continue pressing further eastward. By Monika's estimate, they were somewhere near to dead east of Chorrol, near the middle of The Great Forest. It was a long way from either The Black Road to the south or The Orange Road to the north. Aside from the occasional small clearing, the forest was reasonably thick in that area.

Looking ahead through the trees, a pale stone wall had come into view, rising from the downward sloping hillside immediately below.

Young Vinnus Odiil spoke with obvious curiosity. "What is that?"

"It looks like Ayleid ruins." Alex had seen enough over the past few months with Monika to recognise the curved style of the stonework. He turned to Monika. "Do you know about this one?"

Monika responded vaguely. "Yeah, uh… I haven't been quite this far before. I think there's something marked on my map about here. I thought it was old fort, though."

Montrose spoke up. "It's the ruins of Lindai." His tone seemed to indicate that he knew what he was talking about, but then it usually did, whether he did or not. "It used to be one of the ancient Ayleid strongholds."

"Have you been there before?" Alex asked.

Montrose continued to edge forward a little, trying to see. "No, but I've read something about it." He paused as he tried to get a better view. "I heard that it's been decades since someone went down there... and lived to talk about it. It's supposed to be full of deadly traps and undead. Something to do with the last of the Ayleids that lived down there."

Vinnus sounded curious. "Would it have valuable treasures?"

Montrose turned to the young recruit. "More than a few have thought so. I expect that their bodies are still inside the place."

Monika called for quiet. "Shhh. Hear that?"

Everyone stood still and listened for a moment.

After waiting, Alex whispered. "What is it?"

Monika's silent glare indicated that he should remain quiet.

They waited a bit longer. Faint noises came from the far side of the Ayleid ruins. A strained and garbled screeching noise sounded like someone torturing a large rodent. That was followed by some odd clicking sounds.

Alex had been looking to Monika in silence. Montrose was still trying to peer through the trees toward the ruins. Young Vinnus was just waiting to be told what to do.

Monika whispered. "Sounds like goblins."

Montrose agreed, responding in subdued tone. "Yes, sounds like goblins. But I can't see anything from here."

Alex was thinking back to that first day that he met Monika. That was the only time he had ever seen any goblins. He remembered that they were tough to kill. He also recalled that he had thought that they looked like horribly deformed Orsimer, only somewhat smaller with twisted features and enlarged heads. Of course, that was something that he would not be mentioning to Karl gro-Baroth at any time.

Vinnus spoke quietly. "Should we be checking it out?"

"Only carefully." Monika suggested, keeping her voice low.

Montrose nodded in agreement. He pointed along the ridge to the east. "If we move along those trees up there, we might have a better view."

After a pause, Monika concurred. "Yeah, alright. We should stay quiet and stay alert."

Montrose was eager to take the lead. Monika followed closely behind with Alex, and Vinnus remained at the back. They moved cautiously through the trees along the ridge above the Ayleid ruins. More goblin noises were heard as they drew near. The creatures didn't seem to be alerted to the presence of anyone about. It was just that general screeching and chattering that goblins made between themselves in a group.

Once they had nearly cleared the northern side of the ruins, what was previously out of view became more clear. It wasn't just three or four goblins like that group that Monika and Alex had fought a few months back. There was an entire encampment of goblins around the southern side of the entrance to the ruins.

A number of the goblins were just sitting around. There were two particularly rowdy ones that looked to be arguing or jostling over something. Another one was poring over the carcass of a wolf, apparently skinning it for the pelt. One goblin was tending to two wolf carcasses roasting on spits over an open fire. The breeze was blowing the smoke toward the south-east. Otherwise, they might have smelled the smoke before they heard any of the noises from the camp.

Both Alex and Vinnus had been suitably surprised by the full number of goblins that they could see. There might well have been even more there than they could actually see.

"That's too many." Monika whispered the comment. "At least twenty."

"I count twenty-three." Montrose came with a number.

"There might be more." Alex suggested.

"It's no wonder that the wolves have been spreading westward." Montrose was directing attention to the wolf carcasses at the goblin camp.

"What should we do?" Vinnus sounded a little nervous.

Monika responded. "That's too many goblins for just the four of us."

Montrose agreed. "You're right."

Alex looked expectant. "So, what then?"

"We should head back." Monika settled.

"That's it then?" Vinnus wasn't keen to take on the goblins, but he was expecting to hear something different.

"There's far too many of them." Montrose affirmed.

"We leave it." Monika resolved. "Report it to Karl, when we get back."

Montrose added his opinion. "Odds are, he'll just get the word out that the goblins are out there. They're too far away from anything to threaten any settlements or roads."

"Probably." Monika agreed.

"We might come across more wolves on the back." Alex suggested.

"One can hope." Montrose offered a dry grin.

Monika indicated the direction that they had come from. "Come on. Let's back out of here. We don't want to alert the goblins."

Vinnus Odiil was quietly relieved, but said nothing at all.

They were soon heading back through the forest in the direction of Chorrol. It would be rather late by the time that they made it back to the city. That would be the end of that contract. There was some optimism that they might find more wolves before they cleared the west of the forest. If the opportunity arose, they would try to take any that they spotted, but there was no certainty that they would actually see any.

Vinnus was hoping that his participation in that contract might help him move toward actually becoming a first rank member of the Guild. Montrose was vaguely disappointed that he didn't have the opportunity to take a quick look about the Ayleid ruins. He didn't really want go down into the place, but he would have liked the chance to take a look about the upper area of the ruins. Monika and Alex were both just looking forward to a few days off, but not too many.

~O~


	19. Chapter 19

Evening Star

Greg J Miller

~O~

Chapter 19

Fredas the 27th of Frostfall 4E48

It had been rather late the previous evening when the four Guild Fighters returned to Chorrol. Francois Montrose and young Vinnus Odiil had headed directly for the communal quarters at the Fighter's Guild. Of course, Monika and Alex went back to the Oak and Crosier Inn. After a quick meal and brief visit to the bathroom facilities, they had gone right to bed in their rented room beneath the main tavern floor. Sleep came easily enough after the long day.

Monika probably would have been happy enough to just stay in bed for a while that morning. Alex had risen just as early as he had done the past seven days. Although he had tried to remain quiet, his absence from the bed had woken Monika. She soon gave in to the inevitable and got out of bed. Or at the least, she had started to. She sat on the edge of the bed for a short while, thinking about actually getting up. She eventually summoned the proper motivation. They did need to head over the Fighter's Guild that morning.

After attending to immediate needs, they had both dressed and prepared to head up to the main level of the inn. The tavern area was nearly empty that morning. Aside from one customer by the south wall, there was only Lyra tidying the benches behind the bar. Alex and Monika headed directly outside to the street and up toward the plaza by the great oak. They had arrived at the Fighter's Guild shortly before the temple bells had sounded.

Inside the Guildhall, it seemed that no one was there. Some noise from the basement indicated that somebody was probably training down there. Monika was not disappointed that Dale the Guild Porter had not rushed to intercept them. Before that circumstance changed, she headed straight upstairs for the office, with Alex following closely behind.

A couple of mildly snoring lumps slept on two of the beds at the far side of the communal sleeping area. Alex and Monika continued on up to the upper platform where Karl gro-Baroth sat at the desk.

"Hey, Karl." Monika announced their presence.

Karl gro-Baroth looked up. "Late night?"

"It's not even eight." Monika played along, protesting only lightly.

"Some of us have been up for hours." Karl grumbled.

Alex glanced back at the two snorers over the far side. "Is that…?"

"Catius and Henrik." Karl confirmed.

"When did they get back?" Monika asked.

"Just last night." Karl advised. "Henrik, the idiot, he busted up his shoulder in some old ruins. In a trap. Might've lost his arm if Catius wasn't half-useful. Told 'em they're idiots to go off on that stupid Synod thing. It's not like they found anything. Nothin' but trouble."

Alex seemed concerned. "Is Henrik going to be okay?"

"Yeah, probably." Karl's tone was dismissive. "Catius bandaged and strapped him up good enough for basic healing spells and potions. I'm sending him over to the College. Then a proper healer can take a look at him. As soon as he wakes up, that is. I 'spect he'll be back on the board in a few days."

Monika spoke. "We could have used them yesterday. We found some big trouble out in the forest."

Karl narrowed his bushy brows. "Yeah, I already spoke to Montrose, earlier this morning. He told me all about it."

"Where is he, now?" Alex asked the question.

Karl's backhanded waved indicated the floor. "Downstairs. Training the young fella."

Monika was more interested in talking about what they found in the forest. "What about the goblin camp?" Her expression darkened.

Karl fixed his stare with Monika's. "Nobody goes that far into the forest."

Monika continued to stare. "Aren't you going to at least post warnings?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll get the word out." Karl looked away. "Right now, it's not a problem. If they move or spread out, then we'll need to worry about it."

After a pause, Monika settled somewhat. "Right, then."

Karl shuffled some papers about on the desk. "It's all happening at once. The boss came back yesterday morning. Gone again by the afternoon. Took Varro and Nonius back out with him." It seemed that Sergius Varro and Jena Nonius had been out with the Guild Head for most of the past few weeks.

"What's are they doing?" Monika was curious.

Karl shrugged. "Dunno. Something up north, I think. Never tells me what it's all about until he's done it. Nothin' new there."

"Serg or Jena did not say anything?" Alex prompted.

"Never had the chance." Karl found the papers he was looking for. "Here, before I forget." He pushed the papers in front of Monika and Alex. "Sign these, to say you completed that contract."

The big Orsimer headed for the big chest over in the corner to retrieve the gold for their payments as they signed off on the paperwork.

Karl balanced the two bags on top of the books on his desk. "By the way… good work. Should be a few less wolves around here now, and no one got seriously hurt doing it." After a pause, he added something else. "From what I hear, the young fella did okay as well."

"Yeah." Monika agreed. "I thought so."

Alex chimed in. "Is Vinnus going to make first rank?"

Karl tilted his head. "I'd give it a bit more time, but yeah, I think he'll make it."

Alex appeared pleased to hear that.

Karl shifted his glance to Monika. "Look, I got something else. If you want it?"

"What is it?" Monika's interest was indicated in her tone.

Karl absently picked up a document. "Got a courier message from Skingrad yesterday. Requesting some temporary support over there. The Guildhall just lost a Guild Fighter and a couple of others have gone off on leave."

Monika wrinkled her nose. "What about…?"

Karl grimaced, as he glanced toward Catius and Henrik. "Nah, not those two. I'd seem like I was rewarding them for being idiots." He returned his eyes to Monika. "I figured since you're cleared to go back to Skingrad, I'd let you have it. If you want it?"

Monika appeared to be considering things.

Karl anticipated the obvious. "Also, figured you two would want to stick together. So, I reckon I can spare the both of you for a week or so."

Monika spoke. "When?"

"As soon as possible, I reckon." Karl wore his serious expression.

"Tomorrow?"

"Today would be better." Karl glanced at the document he was holding. "This report says that everyone there is going after some outlaws in The West Weald. That's gonna leave the Guildhall empty, until help arrives."

Monika nodded slowly. Her expression seemed to indicate some reluctance. She had glanced briefly at Alex. She knew he wouldn't need much convincing. "Yeah, alright then. I suppose if we head off today, we should get over there tomorrow."

"Sounds good." Karl agreed. "I got some papers here for that… somewhere. You get paid the standard for going over there. Any local contracts are on top of that."

Monika commented. "I only hope the Skingrad Head hasn't got any problem with me."

Karl waved it off. "If she doesn't like it, that's just too bad. She cleared you to go back there, so she can't complain when you turn up to help."

Monika let it go and signed the paperwork. Alex was still wondering what had caused her previous problems in Skingrad, but he wasn't about to ask.

They finished up with Karl and went back downstairs. The Guild Porter had passed a dark look in their direction as they headed for the door. Monika ignored him. Alex had passed a friendly nod of acknowledgment, hoping to maintain the peace.

Alex kept pace with Monika as she started marching back down the street toward the inn. "So, what is the plan?"

Monika's response was direct. "Grab our gear and some supplies, then head out."

We will not need anything from…?" Alex was pointing back toward the Guildhall with his thumb.

Monika knew what he was thinking. "Won't need any winter gear, or anything else. What we have at the inn should be fine."

"And the supplies?" Alex prompted.

"We can just pick up some rations for the road. At the store." She was talking about the general goods store across the road from the inn.

"Okay, then."

Monika already knew what Alex would ask next. "We can take that back road down near Odiil Farms. Stop overnight at either Hackdirt or Brindle Home. We should be in Skingrad by tomorrow some time."

Alex could tell that she wasn't in the mood for questions. He decided to stay quiet for a little while. He didn't want to provoke any kind of darker mood. That would only make the long journey ahead seem much longer. He was actually looking forward to seeing Skingrad.

* * *

Just as she had done the day before, Belwen was following that Khajiit stranger though the forest. It wasn't as though she had any better options. He had assured that he could lead her to that town to the east, but he also warned that it might take a bit longer going through the forest. On both matters, she would just need to take him at his word.

They passed most of the previous evening up a tree again. Ras'Dar had tried to keep going for a while after darkness had fallen. That hadn't been working so well. He eventually accepted that the Bosmer girl just couldn't see well enough at night to keep up with him.

Belwen was surprised that she was just about becoming accustomed to the idea of sleeping in the trees. Not that she found it at all comfortable. Added to that, the Khajiit had made her climb up much higher than she would have liked. He'd insisted that they should be up as high as possible to remain out of reach of any predators.

At the least, they had not seen any further sign of that wolf that Ras'Dar was concerned over. They had heard some distant howling around dawn, but that was it. The Khajiit seemed confident that it had to be several leagues to the south of their position.

Early in the morning, Ras'Dar had found a trickling spring on the side of a hill in the forest. That provided the opportunity to quench their thirst and refill the water flask. Just downhill from that spring, they found more berry bushes. That was rather fortuitous, since Ras'Dar had very little in the way of rations in his small pack.

Some of the berries were the same kind that Belwen had previously found. However, Ras'Dar had to stop her from eating from one of the bushes. Of course, she had no idea that some of the berries were actually poisonous. They all looked the same to her.

As the morning progressed, Ras'Dar had tried to keep to a reasonable pace through the woodlands. Still, it seemed rather erratic to Belwen. Every so often, the Khajiit would stop to look and listen. He regularly changed direction without explaining the reason. Belwen had sometimes wondered if he was actually leading her to the destination he had indicated, or whether he was just trying to cover the fact he was more lost than he was prepared to admit.

Ras'Dar had kept telling Belwen to try to follow in his exact footsteps. It didn't really make that much sense to her. It was only after he had reminded her several times that he actually explained the reason. He told her that he was trying to keep their tracks light to make them harder to follow. She hadn't seen any indication that anyone could be following, but she tried to do as she was told.

Around mid morning, Ras'Dar had suddenly stopped, startling Belwen. She just managed to stop behind him without running into him. He had crouched down low, looking ahead. Without knowing exactly why, Belwen had crouched down behind the Khajiit, waiting to learn what had alarmed him. He seemed to be looking at something ahead through the trees.

After a moment, Belwen whispered very quietly. "What is it?"

His gaze didn't shift from what he was studying. He also spoke very quietly. "Ras'Dar sees a dead body." He paused. "This one thinks it is one of those armoured High Elves."

"But… it is dead. Isn't it?" Belwen prompted.

"It looks that way. Khajiit cannot tell why."

"What should we do?" Belwen shifted the box she carried from one arm to the other.

He glanced only briefly at Belwen. "Ras'Dar would like to know why it is dead."

The Khajiit started to move forward very slowly. His ears twitched and shifted as he listened for any sign of danger. Sniffing the air, he stopped just short of where the dead Thalmor soldier lay face down upon the ground. He reached down and picked up the elven bow that had been dropped. Cautiously, he prodded the body with the end of the bow. He seemed satisfied that the Altmer soldier was dead. He moved up close for a better look. Ras'Dar liked the look of the quiver of elven arrows. He gently slipped the quiver from the armour as he examined the body. He had noticed impact marks upon the back of the soldier's armour. With some effort, he managed to roll the body over. There was a crack in the soldier's helmet and his face had been badly bruised. There were more marks about the front of the armour. Some of them looked like scorch marks.

Belwen had crouch down behind him as he looked over the dead Altmer. She remained very quiet as she waited to hear what he had learned.

Keeping his voice low, Ras'Dar commented. "This one would think that High Elf was badly beaten. Also looks like magic was used against High Elf. Perhaps yesterday, this happened." He paused as he looked around the ground. "Another wearing armour went that way." He pointed to the south.

Belwen was listening, but she didn't completely understand. "But who killed…?"

It was just then that two ground pheasants emerged from the bushes ahead, cackling in an animated fashion. Rather than running away, they headed directly for Ras'Dar and Belwen. A third one then came from somewhere off to the side and then another.

Ras'Dar stood up, pulling Belwen upright as he did so. He seemed alert.

"Khajiit does not like the look of this." He could hear the noise of something larger approaching. Ahead through the trees, a small deer came into his view. It was also headed directly for them. Ras'Dar turned back toward the way they came. He pushed past Belwen, spinning her around as he did so. "Run Bosmer, run."

Belwen had no idea what was going on. Nevertheless, she took off after the Khajiit as he broke into a dash. She wasn't sure, but she thought that they were headed west. That was the wrong way. Still, whatever was causing the Khajiit to take flight was back behind them. If Ras'Dar was that frightened, then she expected there must have been good reason.

Belwen didn't know how long they had been running or how far they had gone. It seemed like quite a long time before the Khajiit finally slowed and stopped.

Ras'Dar leaned against a tree trunk, panting lightly. His tail hung drooped. It seemed an indication of the measure of his fatigue. He had been looking intensely back toward the direction they had just run from.

Belwen leaned against another tree. She still didn't know what they had been running from. She finally caught her breath. "Aren't… aren't we headed the wrong way?"

Ras'Dar looked serious. "Dying in the forest is the wrong way."

Belwen still failed to understand the danger. "What were we running from? Was something chasing those pheasants?"

Ras'Dar tilted his head as he gazed at Belwen. His expression seemed to indicate a disbelief that she could not know what had happened. "Birds were not running away. Birds were attacking."

"But… there were just pheasants."

"Not just pheasants. Deer was also attacking. Very soon, might have been more forest creatures. This one knows better than to fight alerted spriggan in a forest."

"A spriggan?"

"Forest spirit creature."

"Yes, I've heard of spriggans, but I've never seen one before."

"Then Bosmer is lucky. Some spriggans summon spirit bears to attack. More powerful spriggans make even humble forest creatures attack like wolves. All spriggans, very hard to kill. Even when taken by surprise. Very lucky that Belwen has still not seen a spriggan."

Belwen looked back through the trees of the forest. "It's not following us, is it?"

The Khajiit slowly shook his head. "This one does not think so. Spriggans usually stay near special places. Ras'Dar says it is better to travel a little further north. Better to stay well clear of spriggan." He took the elven arrows he was still carrying and jammed them into his own quiver, discarding the other one. He had decided to keep the elven bow. If he didn't like it, he could always trade it later.

Belwen watched quietly, still thinking about what he had told her. "Do you think that soldier was looking for me? We must be a long way from Valenwood by now."

Ras'Dar took a sip of water from his flask before handing it to Belwen.

"High Elf soldiers also looking for this one. Ras'Dar thinks that High Elves might be in this forest more than anyone knows. Ras'Dar also thinks that some of the bandit attacks along the western roads are not always bandits. Something to think about. Yes?"

Belwen handed back the flask. She was mostly thinking about getting somewhere safe. "Do you think that we'll make it to Seaplace today?"

"Ras'Dar cannot say. Better to stay alive long enough to find Seaplace, yes?"

* * *

It was still relatively early in the day as Malcolm Forester left the Chapel of Akatosh in Kvatch. He had actually visited the shrine inside, but the main reason that he had gone in there was to chat with the priests. He thought to gauge their opinion of the Vigilants of Stendarr in their city. It appeared that although the Stendarr cultists were not wholeheartedly embraced, there was a sense of general approval that they were serving the Divines in their own way. One priest thought that they served as a deterrent to keep people from straying toward the influence of the Daedra.

Forester had paused outside the chapel to collect his thoughts, before deciding where to go next. He had stopped in at the Fighter's Guild a little earlier. He had advised that he'd most probably be leaving the city the next day. He'd learned that the Vigilants and Guild Fighters were still not back. Merandil hadn't seemed at all concerned. He expected to see them back sometime soon.

During the previous evening, Forester had met with his friend from the College of Whispers in the tavern. His friend's opinion of the Vigilants had been much the same as expected. It wasn't so much that the Vigilants of Stendarr had actually done anything to cause alarm. It was more a sense of distrust of that level of zealotry. More so, when it came with a martial bent.

Forester had started to wander off in the direction of the open markets. He still wasn't sure how he felt about those Vigilants of Kvatch. Upon the surface, it seemed that their local activities were exactly what they seemed. His only reason to remain suspicious was drawn from what he had observed in County Cheydinhal. However, it seemed the Vigilants at Kvatch rarely went far without assistance from the Fighter's Guild. That seemed to put his mind at ease, if just a little.

He still wondered whether anyone had been tasked to observe the movement in Kvatch. If someone was watching the local Vigilants like Suvaris, he didn't know who it was. He considered that it could be one of the Guild Fighters that were out with them. Of course, that really was nothing more than supposition. It was also possible that the Penitus Oculatus had one of their own in the city serving that purpose. If they did, he hadn't spotted it. He supposed that he probably wouldn't have noticed anyway. That was the way those Penitus Oculatus field agents operated. They tended to remain perfectly innocuous. He generally wouldn't know one, unless he or she chose to announce themselves.

Forester decided that he would wander the city again for a while. He planned to visit each of the taverns and inns again. He didn't really expect anything different, but he'd go through the motions anyway. It seemed the only likely way to proceed.

Unless something unexpected came to his attention, he thought that he might as well head back to Skingrad the next day. After all, he had told his Guild Head that he'd try to keep his absence to just four or five days. With that in mind, he considered that he should plan for an early night, then set off in the morning before the dawn.

At one point during the day, Forester had noticed a bearded Dunmer walking in the street. It was that full dark beard that drew his attention. He recalled that some of the Dunmer of Cheydinhal went in for beards, but it was not so common. He had thought that he might have seen the Dunmer before, but he couldn't quite place it. He just assumed that it must have been in one of the taverns of Kvatch.

* * *

Monika and Alex had been on the road for most of the day. They wasted no time packing up at the inn back in Chorrol. They were soon heading out along The Black Road away from the city. As planned, they had taken the turn off just before reaching the Odiil Farms settlement.

Monika had advised Alex to keep an eye out on that winding road through the heavily wooded forest. The Hackdirt Road was well known for its dangers. The greater threat generally came from the wild creatures of the forest. For that same reason, there was usually a lesser likelihood of bandits or outlaws. Still, it never paid to become too complacent over the possibility of any kind of hazard.

Despite Monika's concerns, they encountered no trouble. Aside from an Imperial Patrol, they passed no one else along the road, arriving at the township of Hackdirt early in the afternoon. After just a short rest at the town, they soon pressed onward.

As Alex and Monika followed the road south of Hackdirt, they had been alerted by the distant howl of a wolf in the forest. Still, they encountered no actual trouble along the road.

The daylight was fading fast by the time that they approached the settlement of Brindle Home. The place was really no more than a village. There were just a few farmhouses, some small crop farms and the horses that Brindle Home was known for breeding. There was no inn or tavern or the like.

At Monika's suggestion, they planned to camp the night at one of the farms. The local farmers were usually happy to have Guild Fighters staying overnight at the settlement. Aside from the Imperial Patrols and the occasional traveller, few people passed through there.

As Monika headed over to speak with the owner of the nearest farmhouse, Alex had a brief conversation with the young farm boy outside. The lad was just cleaning up before heading inside for the evening.

After a few moments, Monika had returned. "We're all good. We can use that over there." She indicated the open sided building between the farmhouse and the barn. "We can use the fireplace as well." There was open forge of sorts beneath the roof of the structure.

Alex followed her over. "I was just speaking with that farmer's son. He told me that horse farm over there is run by a man called Forester. Do you think that he might be related?"

Monika glanced back at Alex as she starting dropping her gear. "Don't know. Could be, I suppose."

Alex struggled with his pack as it caught on his sleeve. "Forester is based in Skingrad. It is not all that far from here, is it?"

Monika wrinkled her nose. "Forester didn't strike me as a horse breeder type, but you never know." A slight grin reflected a passing thought. "Next time we see him, you should ask him."

Alex gazed out across the settlement. The sun had already disappeared behind the western highlands and the stars were beginning to appear. He wondered how far it was to Skingrad.

Monika drew his attention. "Come on. Let's get this fire started. It feels like it's going to be a bit cooler tonight."

"Okay." Alex turned toward the woodpile. Most of it was still logs that needed cutting down. He took up the axe to cut some wood into smaller pieces. He supposed that the farmer would appreciate having some of the wood cut for the pile.

Monika rummaged through her pack for the rations they had brought. "Pity we only have dried stuff. We could have cooked up something."

Alex didn't mind either way. He kept cutting the wood.

Monika collected some of the wood and got the fire burning, as Alex kept cutting. She let him keep going at it for a short while.

"That's probable enough." Monika suggested. "They wouldn't expect us to cut the whole pile."

Alex finished what he was cutting before setting the axe aside. "Okay." He came over to see what they had to eat. "How long will it take to get to Skingrad tomorrow?"

Monika passed some food to Alex. "Not so long. If we set off fairly early, we'll be there by midday. Maybe a little later."

Alex just nodded as he ate some cheese and reached for his water flask.

After they had eaten, they had talked for while about what Skingrad was like. Alex was curious to see that city for the first time. He was also curious of why Monika had been banned from Skingrad a few years before, but avoided raising the subject. Before too long, they had stoked the fire and turned in for the night.

~O~


	20. Chapter 20

Evening Star

Greg J Miller

~O~

Chapter 20

Loredas the 28th of Frostfall 4E48

Fadren Verelas sat in the corner of the tavern area at the Survivors Inn. He nursed his ale, trying to ignore the snoring Nord sitting next to him and slumped over the table.

The Nord with the lighter coloured mane was called Hamlof. Fadren had firstly spoken with him just briefly during the evening. Once the Nord had learned that Fadren was also from Skyrim, he wanted to have several drinks with him. Normally, Fadren might have preferred that the drunken Nord had left him alone. However, it did actually suit his purposes to be seen with someone else.

The Dunmer had to listen to Hamlof's story about how he grew up on a farm near Whiterun. He had gone on about how he wanted to join The Companions, but he didn't measure up for some reason. He had told Fadren that he had been living in Cyrodiil for more than ten years. He had eventually settled over on the coast at Anvil, where it was always warmer weather.

The only thing that actually interested Fadren, was that Hamlof was a member of the Fighter's Guild in Anvil. From Hamlof, he had learned a little more of how the Fighter's Guild operated in Cyrodiil. That provided him with some insight into what the Imperial man he had been watching might be up to.

Hamlof had mentioned that the Synod had put out a general call to find some Daedric artefact. He didn't know what it was, but he thought that it must have been important. He also needed to explain that the Synod were the group of mages that tended to work with the Empire's military. Not like the more open mages of the College of Whispers.

That information had seemed both alarming and gratifying to Fadren. He was concerned that others were actively searching for a Daedric artefact. Particularly that group of Imperial mages. Even if those others didn't know what it was they looking for, he suspected that it was probably Azura's Star that sparked the hunt. He had also come to feel more justified that he was following the right path. He felt more certain than before that the Imperial man would eventually lead him to what he sought.

It had been more than an hour since the drunken Nord had slumped to the table. It was far too late for Fadren to risk napping for even a short while. He supposed that it could be hours before the bearded Imperial came down from upstairs, but it was just as possible that he might come down some time soon.

Fadren sat and considered what might lie ahead. He tried to think what he might need to do if the Imperial Guild Fighter found what he was after. He wondered whether he would be able to convince him to return the Star to its rightful place, or whether he would need to take it from him. He really couldn't decide which was more likely.

It was not all that long before Fadren noticed the movement of someone coming down from upstairs. It was that bearded Imperial man. He was fully dressed in his strange armour of woven silver coloured mesh and he looked like he was ready to travel.

It had to be at least an hour or more before dawn. Too early for him to be visiting any place in the city. The Imperial man had passed a glance in Fadren's direction as he dropped a key onto the service bar. He then turned and headed out of the tavern.

Fadren waited for a short while before trying to leave without disturbing the sleeping Nord. Estimating the proper passage of time, he approached the door out of the tavern and took a slow peek down the street. As he expected, he observed the Imperial man just nearing the city gates out of Kvatch.

Once the Imperial Guild Fighter was out of sight, Fadren put on his hooded robe and he started to slowly make his way in the same direction. Just as before, the Dunmer would need to allow some time for the Imperial man to gain a reasonable distance before he started to head after him. He didn't know where the Imperial was headed, but he was more certain than ever that he needed to keep following him.

* * *

Alex and Monika were up with the rising sun. Since there was a good layer of straw upon the floor of the open sided shed, it had been relatively comfortable sleeping. The fire in the stone forge had burned down hours before, but the stones still radiated a measure of warmth. It was actually notably cooler that morning. It was a sign that autumn was giving way to the coming winter in Cyrodiil.

Once they were fully prepared, they resumed their journey toward Skingrad. Alex had dallied as they passed the farm that was supposed to be owned by someone with the same family name as Forester. Monika urged him onward.

The road out from Brindle Home took them past one of those old Ayleid wells that were scattered all about Cyrodiil. Alex had never seen anything like that before coming to Cyrodiil from Skyrim. Monika had previously told him that magic could be drawn from those wells. Of course, she had also told him that it wasn't really much use to anyone except a skilled mage. Alex had only recently learned a few basic healing spells and that was all. He was no more of a mage than Monika was.

The woodlands soon became rather more sparse as the road led away from The Great Forest. The countryside was still lightly forested with the odd copse of trees here and there, but nowhere near as heavily wooded as the forest to the east.

A little further along, one those glowing balls of enchanted gas hovered in a hollow some distance from the road. A will-o-the-wisp. Monika had previously advised to keep well away from those things. If they came too close, they could drain away the life-force and latent magicka, leaving the victims too addled and drained to even heal themselves. It was far enough way from their path not to cause too much concern.

Just a couple leagues out from Brindle Home, they had caught the first glimpse of the walls and spires of Skingrad as the road came over a low hill. The highest part of the city was just visible over some of the trees ahead. It was still many leagues way. Several hours would pass before they arrived at their destination.

* * *

Belwen and Ras'Dar were still making their way through the north-western forest of Elsweyr. By the Khajiit's estimate, it was quite likely that they were not all that far from the border with Cyrodiil.

After narrowly escaping an encounter with a spriggan the previous day, they had deviated quite a distance to the north. That had taken them even further from the road located somewhere off to the south. It was reasonable to expect that they had hardly managed to travel much closer to their intended destination, the town of Seaplace. Nevertheless, they had managed to completely avoid the danger of the spriggan.

Belwen continued to jump every time they spotted any kind of forest creature, no matter how harmless it might have appeared. Every ground pheasant or bird in a tree drew her concern and suspicion. Learning just a little more of the many potential dangers of the forests had not served to make her any less frightened than before. In fact, it seemed quite the opposite. She had only just come to realise how incredibly lucky she must have been to have made it so far on her own.

Once darkness had again set in, Ras'Dar had selected a suitable tree to climb and rest for the evening. Aside from distant noises, the dark hours passed without incident. With the approaching dawn, they had again set off through the woodlands.

The first part of the morning had passed rather uneventfully. There had been just a few moments of alarm caused by small forest creatures. In each case, it had been birds. Some of them had been in the trees and a few were ground birds in the bushes.

Ras'Dar knew that he was running low on water. He had been making a point of rationing his flask as best as possible. He was also keeping out a keen eye for any sign of a spring or any other source of water. There wasn't much to eat either. He was also keeping that very much in mind.

The Khajiit had briefly considered the value of killing a ground pheasant. He knew that he could certainly manage to eat some of it raw, but he doubted that his Bosmer companion could do so. He certainly gave no consideration to the notion of any kind of campfire. He kept all of those thoughts to himself.

A little later in the morning, Ras'Dar had cautiously halted their progress. He had signalled Belwen to remain silent. The Khajiit had spotted two large forest rats digging into a mound. They were not the smaller rats that Belwen had seen about Arenthia. The feral rats were nearly as large as small pigs. Ras'Dar had recognised the mound as the nest of a kind of ground pheasant.

The Khajiit had drawn his bow. He was prepared to fire upon the rats if he had to, but he preferred to avoid the conflict altogether, if he could. He cautiously guided the Bosmer girl back away from the area and led her in a direction that would take them well around the trouble.

Belwen was quite glad that the Khajiit was attentive to spotting dangers like that. She again felt reminded of her inadequacies in such matters. She knew that she would have stumbled straight into those creatures, if she were on her own. Still, she was concerned that they were never going to make it to that town. It seemed that they passed more time circling around potential threats than actually heading for their destination. She was worried that they would soon run out of water. Ras'Dar wasn't saying anything, but she knew that his flask must have been running low. It would have been better if Ras'Dar had taken the Thalmor soldier's water flask the previous day, instead of his weapons. Still, she kept her concerns to herself and just kept following the Khajiit through the forest.

* * *

Monika and Alex finally reached The Gold Road just a short while before midday. In spite of the fair possibility of encountering dangerous wild creatures along the way, there were none that day. Aside from that will-o-the-wisp they spotted earlier, the only other things of note that they saw were a small herd of wild deer grazing on a low hillside.

They had reached the main road just near the farmlands about the eastern side of Skingrad. The crop fields looked fairly bare. It looked like the last harvest of the year had come and gone and the fields had been left to fallow. The road seemed to skirt about the north of the walls of the city for nearly a league before arriving at the main gates at the western side.

Before too long, they neared that area outside the western gates. Coming down the slope of that last stretch, Alex had been a little surprised by all the vineyards spreading out about the northern side of the city. He could see some people tending the trellised vines in the fields. Some others were doing something by the open sheds up the hill.

With some surprise in his voice, Alex had read the big sign out loud. "Surilie Brothers Vineyard. So that is where it comes from."

"Yeah. It's a family outfit." Monika commented. "Been that way for years." She pointed out other vineyards over the other side of the road. "That's Tamika Vineyards over there. A Redguard woman originally founded it. She's long gone, but they kept the name. The Tamika wines still hold up on past reputation."

Alex took in the information. He didn't go in much for wine, or any strong drink for that matter, but he recognised the value that others placed on such things. He recalled Monika's enthusiasm for that Cyrodiilic Brandy when they had been guests in the White-Gold Tower of the Imperial City.

Just near the city gates, they passed the stabling facilities. A large sign identified it as Grateful Pass Stables. An old Altmer sat under the eaves of the building. He casually watched over two younger men tending the horses in the yards. The stables seemed almost as busy as the ones outside the Imperial City.

The tall gates set into the west wall were marked with the shield of County Skingrad, a dark circle with the crescent shapes of both moons. It depicted Masser waning and Secunda waxing. Alex couldn't recall if there was some special significance of that particular lunar configuration. He certainly didn't know why it was on the shield of Skingrad.

Monika had spoken briefly with the guards at the city gates, and then they entered the walls of Skingrad. Only a short distance up the broad street, Alex had started to fall behind as he gawked.

Alex had firstly looked toward the people milling about the open markets up ahead, before glancing up at the stone bridge overhead. He then noticed just how high the stone walls of the city towered above. Some of the walls inside the city seemed just as tall as the walls around the outside. It seemed to Alex that the city was actually split into two walled sections with that broad road up the middle. Among the towers and spires, he could see the top of the temple over to his right. It seemed to be a similar style to those chapels of both Chorrol and Bruma, but it seemed much higher by Alex's estimation.

By the time that Monika reached the crossroads, she paused to wait for Alex to catch up. She had actually expected something like that. It reminded her of the first time she brought him into Chorrol. He was still like that every time they came to a big city he had never seen before. Monika provided him with a quick run down of the general layout of Skingrad. She told him that they called that area The Low Street. The Gold Road used to run up the middle of the city, but nobody called it that any more. She pointed out the Chapel District, the main residential part of the city. Although they couldn't see it from there, she told him that Castle Skingrad was up on a hill outside the main walls in that direction. From what she had read, back in the first era, the castle had been the first part of the city. She redirected his attention to other side of the city. Hightown was where the main business district of Skingrad was located, as well as the Fighter's Guild.

Monika indicated she was done with her short overview. "Come on. We need to get over the Guildhall. We can take a look around a bit later."

"Okay." Alex reluctantly fell into step.

Monika led him directly along The High Street to the local Fighter's Guild and they stepped through the front door. The elderly Guild Porter sat upon a chair by the stairs at the far side of the entryway. He had stirred in response to the sound of someone coming through the door. He looked like he might have been asleep, or at least resting. With some effort, he rose from his chair and approached Monika and Alex.

Fadus Calidius squinted at Monika. "Northwind, isn't it? What are you doing here?"

Monika tried to maintain her composure. "Hello, Calidius. We're here to report to the Guild Head. Sent from Chorrol."

Fadus upheld a neutral expression. "She's expecting someone, but probably not you." He stared at Alex. "Who's that with you?"

Alex stepped forward, hoping to offer a distraction from the obvious tension. "Alex Pinewatch, reporting for duty."

Fadus responded only with a courteous nod, silently taking measure of Alex.

Monika spoke again. "Is the Guild Head in?"

Fadus returned his gaze to Monika. His expression remained stoic. "She's up in the office. You'd best go straight up there."

Monika headed directly for the stairs. Alex followed closely behind. They passed through the common area and then up to the top level where the office was located. Monika inwardly braced herself a little as she approached the open door to the Guild Head's office.

Adrienne Canne turned her head as they reached the doorway. After just a short pause, she spoke in a brusque fashion. "Come on in. Take a seat."

Monika spoke up. Her tone was uncharacteristically formal. "Guild Fighters Northwind and Pinewatch. Chorrol sent us over here to provide assistance."

Canne indicated the chairs again. "Good. Sit down."

Monika and Alex did as they were instructed. Alex was trying to gauge the level of tension between the two women. It seemed that the Guild Head was only barely suppressing an obvious measure of displeasure.

Canne resumed. "As it turns out, we're going to need extra hands. Three of my people are out in The West Weald chasing down outlaws. Two others are away on leave."

Alex decided to speak. "Is Forester still with this Guildhall?"

The look on Canne's face made him immediately regret asking the question. A moment passed. "You're the ones he worked with on a mission for the Synod a few months back?"

Alex was reluctant to speak again. He nodded in the affirmative.

Canne continued. "He mentioned that. Forester's away for a few days. I'm expecting him back soon." She referred to a document on her desk. "In the meantime, I need you two to go deal with something. I hope you're up for it." She glanced to Alex and Monika in turn.

Monika responded. "What is it?"

"Vampires." Canne's tone expressed her disdain. Her gazed lingered on Monika.

Monika's tone remained professional "Right, then. Where?"

Canne unfurled a map across the table. Both Monika and Alex had leaned forward to see. The map included all of County Skingrad. Of course, the city of Skingrad was the most prominent feature. The Strid River was a relatively short distance to the south, marking the border with Valenwood. There were several other locations marked all over the map. Canne's finger drew attention to the southern part of The West Weald.

"There was an attack at the Silorn ruins." Canne paused, indicating the location marked near the upper reaches of the Strid River. "There's a group of scholars studying the ruins there. Mostly College of Whispers and a couple of Synod."

"From here?" Monika queried.

"No, from the Arcane University. They're scholars. Not experienced battlemages. Not equipped to deal with hostile vampires."

Alex interrupted. "Was anyone… what happened?"

Canne appeared mildly irritated. "No fatalities. Two were left fairly drained. Another two were injured trying to fight them off. One of the scholars is related to one of Count Hassildor's stewards." She paused to look at Monika.

Monika remained silent. Alex had thought that something significant was implied, but he wasn't exactly certain.

Canne resumed the briefing. "They're fairly sure the vampires didn't come out of the ruins at Silorn. They lost sight of them in the dark, but they said they were headed east."

"How many?" Monika asked.

"They only saw three, but that doesn't mean much. If they're holed up somewhere nearby, then there could be more." Canne paused a moment. "We know that Bloodcrust Cavern is clear and sealed up." She indicated the location on the map, a mark not far from the south of Skingrad. "These are most likely places nearby. Howling Cave." She pointed out the location to the north-east of Silorn. "And these Ayleid ruins, Nornalhorst." Her finger found the mark further east of Howling Cave.

"What about his one?" Monika pointed to the ruins of Fort Vlastarus, a bit north of Howling Cave.

Canne shook her head. "One of my people scouted that place only a few weeks back. We're confident there's nothing there, right now." She paused. "All of these three places have harboured that kind of trouble in the past, but my gut tells me it's Howling Cave. It's been a long time since anyone had reason to go there. So, that makes it the likely place, in my book."

Monika nodded, accepting the assessment. "Do we have any idea of the layout?"

Canne produced a smaller map. It was really just a rough sketch of the layout of the cave system. "This should give you some idea. These caves used to be a mine at some time in the past. Tapped out and abandoned ages ago. You can ignore these lower levels. They were blocked off by a cave-in a few years back." She pushed the map forward. "Take this. It's just a copy."

Alex looked more closely at the map.

Monika spoke up. "Anything else?"

Canne responded. "If there's nothing at Howling Cave, then you should look into Nornalhorst. Unfortunately, I don't have maps for that. Whatever you do, it's best to do it in the daytime. A better chance of the vampires being less active."

Monika nodded. "It's just the two of us, then?"

Canned glanced at her. "Unless someone else gets back here, you're on your own. You should rest up tonight, then head out tomorrow morning." After a pause. "Are you staying at the Guildhall?"

Monika answered quickly. "No. We'll be staying at an inn."

Canne's expression remained neutral. "Suit yourself. Go see Fadus about weapons before you leave."

"Nothing else, then?" Monika checked.

"That's everything." Canne rolled up the local map.

With a curt nod, Monika rose from her seat. Alex mirrored her actions and they both left the office to head back downstairs.

They met with Fadus Calidius in the main entryway. He had already anticipated what was required. Moving at his own pace, he led them down to the armory in the basement. The porter had already laid out a selection of silver blades of various sizes. Monika and Alex had each selected silver swords according to their preference. Fadus had reminded them that he expected the blades back in good condition or they would be buying them.

Once they were done, Monika wasted no time taking leave of the Guildhall. She hadn't slowed to a halt until they were back out on the street.

Several things had crossed Alex's mind over the past half-hour or so. Most of them, he had decided might be best kept to himself. At least for the moment. Instead, he considered the most pressing matter. He'd never fought a vampire before. He recalled a conversation in Bravil a few months earlier. Durgash had been really worried about the notion of finding vampires when they were on that mission for the Synod. He was a huge Orsimer and an experienced Guild Fighter of some years. Obviously, Alex was neither of those things. He wasn't even all that big, for a Nord.

Monika interrupted his thoughts, seemingly anticipating his next question. "We should look into getting some extra supplies if we're going up against vampires."

"What will we need… for fighting vampires?" Alex thought that they might need something special, but he didn't know what it should be.

Monika tried to affect a slight smile. "These silver swords are a good start, but I want to go see what the blacksmith might have." She indicated further up The High Street. "Come on. Let's go find out."

Alex nodded and fell into step.

Just up past the bend in the street, they came to the local smith's store. The signage identified the place as the Hammer and Tongs. It looked like the name of a tavern to Alex.

Inside the blacksmith's, there was nobody immediately in sight, but they could hear someone working in the next room. Monika stepped into the main room and waited. A burly Colovian man with hairy shoulders and a large bald patch in the middle of his dark hair abandoned the forge to go and see who had come into his store.

He wiped his hands on his apron. "Afternoon. Wotcha need?"

Monika responded. "Good afternoon. We're hoping you can help us. We're after silver arrows. Proper silver heads, not just dipped in silver."

If the big blacksmith was offended, he didn't give any indication. The smith tried to interest them in some special silver arrows enchanted with fire effects, but they were far too expensive. Instead, they left with a supply of plain silver-headed arrows. Even then, those still cost as much as other more effective arrows. The silver arrows were only really useful for vampires and some other kinds of magical creatures. Not as broadly useful as the armour penetrating glass tipped arrows that Monika preferred.

Leaving the blacksmith behind, they next headed for the alchemical store to restock some potions and to acquire poisons that were meant to be effective against vampires. The poison was also relatively expensive, but they needed to accommodate the cost to ensure proper advantage.

After that, Monika and Alex stopped at the general store to attend to more regular supply requirements. It was well into the afternoon by the time they were back on the street with their most obvious business attended.

"Is that everything that we need?" Alex couldn't think of anything else.

"I think so." Monika settled. "If you want, we can just take a walk around the city for a while. We still need to find a place to stay."

Alex nodded his agreement. "That sounds good. I would like that."

Monika took his arm and steered him along the street. "We should talk about plans for tomorrow, later on." She paused. "We'll need to be up early in the morning, as well."

Alex just nodded silently. He was trying to think about what he might need to know about fighting vampires. However, his thoughts were also distracted by what he had observed back at the Guildhall. He was still wondering about the reasons for the subdued hostility toward Monika, but he really didn't want to bring it up.

Aside from Monika occasionally pointing out something of interest in the city, they walked on in relative silence for a while.

* * *

Belwen and Ras'Dar hadn't encountered any potential trouble since those forest rats earlier in the day. The Khajiit had actually found some water early in the afternoon. It was little more than a small pool in a hollow. It was probably only there because of the recent rains. He wasn't really all that confident of the quality of the water, but there wasn't a lot of choice in the matter. They needed the water. He just hoped that Belwen didn't have a weak stomach.

Quite late in the afternoon, the sounds of an energetic ruckus brought them both to a halt. Ras'Dar hadn't needed to alert Belwen to the danger. An old deaf Khajiit could have heard it from a good distance.

It was a mix of several different kinds of noises. Some of it was guttural screeches and grunts alongside sounds of a battle. There were also the excitable shouts coming from either men or mer, or possibly Khajiit.

Ras'Dar hadn't needed to tell Belwen to remain quiet as he edged around the trees trying to see what was ahead of them. Once he could see, he was suitably alarmed. Without really thinking about it, he had taken hold of his bow in preparation. He didn't really want to have to use it. Even more so, given what he could see.

It was still difficult to see clearly through the trees. It looked like three or four of those Altmer soldiers wearing Thalmor armour. They were fighting a group of hairy trolls. There were at least five trolls, possibly more. It certainly sounded like more.

The Khajiit turned to Belwen. He quietly urged her to back away cautiously. After only a short distance, Ras'Dar had taken hold of her arm. He halted her movement and firmly guided her down into a low crouching position. To her credit, the Bosmer remained quiet.

Belwen held her breath as two great hairy trolls dashed by no more than ten paces from where they crouched. The trolls were headed for the sound of the battle. They hadn't actually noticed Ras'Dar and Belwen.

Ras'Dar waited for a few moments. His ears twitched as he listened intently. Once he was feeling more confident, he urged Belwen into motion again. That latest danger had again driven them in the opposite direction of where they wanted to go. They kept moving in a mostly north-westerly direction for a good half-hour before the Khajiit halted their travel.

Belwen had remained quiet, waiting for Ras'Dar to speak.

The Khajiit tried to affect a serious expression. "This one starts to think how it might be better to travel much further north, yes?"

"North? Into Cyrodiil?" Belwen questioned.

"Less likely to see armoured High Elves in Imperial lands."

"But I thought you wanted to get to Seaplace?"

"Seaplace is only on the way back to Riverhold."

Belwen was confused. "Riverhold?"

"Riverhold is the city where Ras'Dar stays. There are Imperials outside of Riverhold and no chance of armoured High Elves."

Belwen didn't know what to say.

Ras'Dar continued. "Cannot go south to road. Forest is becoming far too dangerous to go east. In Cyrodiil, there will be roads to Elsweyr. The road to Riverhold. This might be better, yes."

Belwen held no better ideas. "I suppose so."

Ras'Dar tried to appear confident as he led his Bosmer companion off toward the north. In truth, he was not feeling nearly as confident as he tried to project. He didn't really know what to expect in that direction. He only hoped that it was better than the dangers that he did know about behind them.

* * *

Malcolm Forester had been marching briskly since he set off from Kvatch before sunrise. The road had been fairly quiet that day. Aside from the small farmer's wagon he had seen back by the turn off to Shetcombe, he had only passed a couple of slow moving Legion soldiers on patrol. Just one travelling in either direction along the main road.

Forester had plenty of time to think about things as he walked along The Gold Road, bound for Skingrad. He couldn't decide whether the past few days had just been a waste of time or not. He supposed that he should be grateful that he hadn't found any indication that the Vigilants of Stendarr in Kvatch were like the group in Cheydinhal. Still, he remained far from confident that the Vigilants were perfectly trustworthy.

Perhaps an hour or two past midday, Forester came upon another Imperial soldier riding slowly toward him on patrol. The soldier came to a halt as he neared. He gave Forester a good long look.

Forester offered a greeting. "Good afternoon."

The Imperial soldier responded. "I've seen you before, haven't I? You're with the Fighter's Guild, in Skingrad?"

"Well, yes. As a matter of act, I am." Forester tried to recall if it he was the same soldier that he spoke with on the road a few days earlier.

"I thought so." The soldier spoke in a friendly tone. "You're not with those other Guild Fighters I saw back up the road?"

"Other Guild Fighters?" Forester queried.

The soldier elaborated. "Yeah, I ran into a couple of them back up the road. That was less than an hour back. A Redguard and an Imperial woman. They had some others with them."

Forester's interest lifted. "That would be Rolden and Maplewood, I expect. They're from the Kvatch Guildhall."

"From Kvatch? You know them, then?"

"Well enough. I was actually hoping to catch up with them. By any chance, did they say happen to say where they were going?"

The soldier glanced back down the road. "They said they'd just come from the Ayleid ruins at Miscarand. They were headed over to the old ruins of Fort Istirus."

Forester thanked the soldier for his time and made his courteous farewells.

With some measure of renewed intent, he picked up the pace along the road. He knew where Fort Istirus was located. He had last been there about five years before, when there had been a gang of outlaws using those ruins as a base. Although it was not far from the road, it was well out of view from anyone passing by. As he recalled, it was just near to where there was a standard signpost along the road, pointing direction to each of the cities.

Forester was also thinking that those ruins were probably within the territory of County Skingrad. At least, he thought that was the case. Of course, there was never any issue over where Guild Fighters were based and where their activities took them. However, there might be some issue with those Vigilants of Stendarr. After all, Count Hassildor had refused their presence in Skingrad. He presumed that didn't mean just the city.

Reaching that spot along the road where the standard signpost stood, Forester could see the Ayleid ruins of Miscarand off to the north. Fort Istirus was located more or less across the road in the opposite direction.

After a short pause, Forester left the road and headed southward over the hill. There was no worn path to follow. He walked through the grass, keeping a wary eye out for trouble.

Cresting the hillside, the stone of the ruins came into view over on his left. He adjusted his path accordingly.

Immediately to the south, the land fell away in steep steps. The Strid River was somewhere down below. That river marked the border with Valenwood, or rather it was the border with the new Aldmeri Dominion, he reminded himself.

A little further down the grassy hillside, his path intersected with the evidence of where others had walked through the grass. The trail led toward the ruins. That had confirmed that the group had recently come that way. He saw no indication that anyone had yet departed through that same area.

Just outside of the main ruins, he passed the remains of a broken stone altar. As far as he could tell, other than the indications of the passage of time, it looked much the same as the last time he had been there.

The ruins of Fort Istirus also appeared much as he recalled. Above the ground, the remains of the stone tower appeared rather worse for the passage of the years. Less than half of the tower remained standing. It was no where near as intact as the tower of Fort Ash along The Black Road to Chorrol. Above ground level, Fort Istirus really was no more than ruins.

Forester took some time to look about outside and examine the above ground parts of the ruins. The partial stone framework only remained standing about the northern and eastern sides. The rest had fallen many years before. In the middle of the tower space, there were but three standing columns and piles of stone rubble. All of it was overgrown with grasses and shrubs. There were even some trees growing there. One tree near the centre was quite established, reaching the height that the tower would have once stood.

At the eastern side of the tower ruins, where the wall was more intact, two heavy doors marked the entrance to the lower parts. From his previous visit to that place, he knew that most of the underground areas were more or less intact. From the marks around the entrance, it was obvious that one of the doors had been opened and someone had gone inside. The heavy door had been pulled closed, but not quite fully.

From his observations, although it was obvious that people had gone there that day, it didn't seem that anyone else had been regularly going to the place. There just wasn't enough fresh wear upon the grass and undergrowth to indicate regular foot traffic.

The heavy wooden door slowly swung open with a creaking sound. Forester turned about to see two cloaked men emerging from the doorway. Both were strangers. Obviously, neither was Rolden or Maplewood. Whether they were the Vigilants from Kvatch or not, was something he couldn't know with any certainty.

Forester tensed as the cloaked men drew their weapons. One drew blades, the other a bow. He raised his hands in a disarming fashion. Trying not to make it too obvious, he had started whispering a spell, just in case he needed it.

Before Forester had the opportunity to complete his preparations, an arrow whistled past him. Whether the shot was intentionally fired wide of him or just poorly aimed, he didn't know. He was too busy diving for cover.

Forester had actually been preparing a shielding spell. Crouched behind the stone column, he had started preparing a fireball spell instead. He wasn't planning to call out until he was holding fire in his hands.

Just then, a chill rolled past him. He saw the icy mist trailing toward to the two cloaked men. It had come from behind him.

Both of the cloaked men had shouted out as they were enveloped by a thick icy cloud. Forester couldn't make out what they said.

By that time, Forester was cradling a fireball. However, he was loath to pick a fight if the cloaked men were the Vigilants that he was expecting to find. He quickly stole a glance behind him. He saw a dark Dunmer in a hooded robe. Since only his hands and face were exposed, Forester's attention was drawn toward the Dunmer's dark beard. His was just thinking that he had seen that Dunmer in Kvatch, but he was drawn back toward the sounds about the big wooden doors.

The two cloaked men were staggering from the cold. One leaned against the stone wall for support. The other had dropped to his knees. Another cloaked man emerged from behind the wooden door. He was followed by an armoured Redguard man, holding his sword and shield at the ready.

"Rolden." Forester called out. "Forester. Fighter's Guild."

The Redguard had prevented the cloaked man beside him from advancing, holding him back with his shield. Rolden noticed the bearded face peering out from behind the column.

"Forester?" Rolden returned.

"Yes, it's me." Forester remained mostly behind the column.

Rolden called back. "What's going on?"

Forester responded. "Well, right now I'm hiding behind these stones from your friends with the bows. I think it would be quite nice if everyone calmed down, just a little."

Rolden spoke again. "It's alright. I know Forester. He's Fighter's Guild."

One of the chilled Vigilants spoke. "What… what about… the Dunmer."

Forester extinguished the fireball he had been holding as he stepped out from behind the column. "I thought he was with you."

"What Dunmer?" Rolden asked. He couldn't see anyone.

The other chilled Vigilant spoke with incredulity. "A Dunmer hit us with a frost spell."

"I just thought he was a terrible shot." Forester offered. He was also wondering where the Dunmer had gone. By then, he was also starting to wonder just who he was.

The same Vigilant spoke again, pointing up the hill. "There was a Dunmer. Wearing dark robes. He was up there. He was behind this man."

Everyone was looking in that direction, but there was no one in sight.

"What's going on?" A tall Imperial woman in steel armour emerged from the doorway with her blade at the ready. It was Rena Maplewood.

"Forester's here." Rolden advised.

"Forester? From Skingrad?"

"Hello, Rena." Forester stepped forward.

"What's going on? Why are you here?" Maplewood had glanced at the two cloaked Vigilants with the light coat of flaking ice.

"Something of a misunderstanding." Forester suggested. "An Imperial rider along the road told me that you were headed here. I thought that I'd drop by to see what you might have found. These two men drew their weapons before I had a chance to introduce myself."

Rena scowled.

The chilled Vigilant with the bow responded. "A robed Dunmer appeared behind him and attacked us with some sort of frost magic."

Rena looked to Forester.

Forester raised his eyebrows, shrugging. "Don't ask me. I was pinned behind the stones when the stranger came to my defence. I didn't even know anyone was behind me."

"Where is this Dunmer now?" Rena asked.

"Gone." Rolden resolved.

The other two Vigilants had come out of the ruins behind Maplewood. That made five of them in total. Forester couldn't say that he'd seen any of them before.

Rena faced Rolden. "Was this Dunmer a Daedra worshipper or something?"

"Who can say?" Rolden hadn't even seen the Dunmer.

"We're just about done here anyway." Rena settled.

Forester interjected. "Merandil had said you were out looking for a cult of necromancers. Did you find anything?"

Rena answered with some irritation. "Nothing. Not a thing. This is the last place we were checking today."

"Going back to Kvatch, after this." Rolden added.

Forester commented. "Oh, I'm actually headed back for Skingrad."

The three Guild Fighters chatted briefly before all the Vigilants were ready to head out. Forester had learned that Rolden seemed happy enough working with the Vigilants on those missions. Maplewood had quietly suggested that she thought that they all needed to be better trained. She didn't seem concerned with what they were doing, only that the Vigilants didn't do it well enough.

They were soon all headed back up the hill toward the road. After brief farewells, the Kvatch group turned westward and headed for Kvatch. Forester paused a moment before preparing to continue his journey back to Skingrad.

"That's no way to make new friends." Forester spoke loudly enough to be heard by the shadowed figure up the tree behind him. Perhaps more by accident than anything else, he had spotted the robed Dunmer hiding amongst the thick foliage of the tree branches. He had chosen not to say anything until the others were well out of earshot.

Since there was no longer any point in hiding, the Dunmer responded. "I didn't mean to cause any trouble."

Forester looked up toward the tree. "Well, I suppose that I should ask. Are you planning to cause any trouble, right now?"

"I should hope not." The Dunmer answered, climbing down.

Forester watched the Dunmer descend. He maintained some measure of alert. "I'm not certain whether I should be thanking you or not. What were you doing there?"

The Dunmer's red eyes appeared to reflect an earnest expression. "In the tree? I was hiding from those others."

Forester tried not to grin. "No. I meant, back at the ruins."

"I was headed for Skingrad. I saw you heading over that hill and… and, well I was curious." The Dunmer paused. "When I saw those men attacking you… well, I thought they were outlaws or something like that. My humble apologies, if I caused any trouble, sera"

Forester smirked. "I wasn't entirely certain of them myself." His expression shifted as he narrowed his brows. "Didn't I see you back in Kvatch?"

"Perhaps. I was in that city for the past few days."

"I thought so." Forester seemed pleased. "Where are you from? That accent…"

The Dunmer bowed slightly. "I have come to Cyrodiil from Skyrim. Before Skyrim, I lived in Solstheim for a time."

Forester nodded. "That explains. What brings you to this part of Tamriel?"

"I was searching for another of my master's students to inform him that our master had passed from this world to the next."

"Master?" Forester queried.

"Master Aras Fals. A humble healer and a mage."

That caught Forester's interest. "So, you're a mage too?"

"Not as skilled as my departed master, sera."

"Who is it that you're looking for? I might be able to help."

"A fellow Dunmer. About my age, but of fair colouring. His name is Daras Garil."

Forester slowly shook his head. "I'm sorry. I can't say that I've heard of anyone by that name. Why did you think you'd find him in Kvatch?"

"All that I know is what my master had told me before he died. He said that Daras had gone to either Kvatch or Skingrad. That was more than ten years passed by."

Forester shook his head briefly. "Tell you what, I'm headed to Skingrad myself. If you like, I can ask around for you. Someone might know."

The Dunmer nodded deferentially. "That would be most kind, sera."

"Of course." Forester grinned. He took a few steps, then stopped. "Are you coming? It will be dark by the time that we make to Skingrad. We really should get moving."

The Dunmer stepped quickly to catch up. "Yes, sera."

"Where are my manners?" Forester turned and extended his hand. "Malcolm Forester. Fighter's Guild."

The Dunmer took his hand. "I am called Fadren Verelas."

~O~


	21. Chapter 21

Evening Star

Greg J Miller

~O~

Chapter 21

Sundas the 29th of Frostfall 4E48

It was not unusual for Alex to be the first one out of bed. It would have been just a short while before dawn as he quietly padded across the room to find the chamber pot. Monika tossed aside the covers almost immediately and then started to get up. That was only a little unusual. She might have preferred a slower start to the morning, but there was work to be done.

Since Monika was up right away, Alex set about retrieving their leather armour from where he had hung them out by the small hearth the previous evening. With immediate matters attended, they were soon dressed and prepared to head out for the day. They didn't plan to waste any time in the tavern downstairs. They just took something to eat from their supplies.

After the previous afternoon of casually wandering through the streets of Skingrad, Monika had led Alex to the third inn that she had pointed out. She had outright rejected the Northside Tavern near the upper part of Hightown. She had described it as a terrible place run by dishonest operators. Monika had also passed over the more opulent looking West Weald Inn with some ambivalence. Alex suspected it might have been more that it was rather close to the Guildhall. The Great Chapel Lodge was located in the Chapel District. It was the only tavern over that side of town.

Inside the Great Chapel Lodge, they made their way down to the service bar of the busy tavern. After securing a room and taking a meal, they made use of the upstairs bathroom facilities. Then they retired to their room on the uppermost level. It was almost of the quality of the rooms they hired back at Chorrol, if just a little smaller.

Monika and Alex had talked for a while about their plans for the next day. Alex really needed to hear what he should expect when fighting vampires.

Monika had advised him that there were lots of different kinds of vampires. A number of things were common to most of the kinds that she knew of. All of them suffered from a common weakness to sunlight. Some types more than others. It was much the same with fire and silver. The effects of fire were obvious. Silver was almost like a poison to them. It was something to do with the mildly corrosive nature of their blood and how it reacted with the silver. Still, killing a vampire was more or less just like killing any kind of foe. They were just a bit harder to kill. If they were wounded severely enough before they could heal, or if their head came off, then they'd go down just the same.

Monika had also warned Alex of the inherent strengths and attributes of most types of vampires. Almost all kinds were much stronger and faster than they might appear. They could see better in the dark and some possessed the power to become invisible, or very nearly so. It also seemed that most vampires had an inherent increased ability with various kinds of magic.

Overall, it was best to expect the unexpected. By Monika's reckoning, it was best to attack them from a distance or by surprise. It was also best to go for the most effective killing strikes and end it as quickly as possible.

Monika also warned Alex of the danger of contracting disease from close combat with vampires. It didn't necessarily require a bite or scratch to become infected. In some cases, close contact was enough. She had held up the two vials of a potion that she acquired from the alchemist. She assured him that it would cure vampiric infection, if caught early enough.

Alex was left thinking that it might have been much better if it wasn't just the two of them going after the vampires, but he tried to take it in stride.

After they had finished discussing their plans, their armour and clothes were laid out to air and they went straight to bed for a good night's rest. Alex had suspected that Monika was feeling a little less confident than she had tried to sound. He might have been imagining it, but she seemed to be holding him a little firmer than usual as she slept pressed hard up against his back.

At one point during the night, Alex had actually woken from a disturbing dream. It was some mixed up version of that time that they fought those reanimated undead corpses in Wellspring Cave. He had tried not to disturb Monika's sleep and said nothing of it later.

The rising sun had seemed rather subdued that morning. Alex had thought that it was just because of the tall walls about the city. Outside on the street, he learned that a heavy cloud cover had set in overnight. The skies were gray and overcast. There had been no indication of it the previous afternoon, just a few clouds about the west and south.

Alex and Monika headed down to The Low Street. Even though it was still quite early that Sundas morning, just a few of the street vendors were already setting up. They made their way past them and up the slope to the Lower Eastern Gates leading out of the city. The southbound road to Silorn was just a short distance along the Old Gold Road at the back of Skingrad. From there, it would still take some time to reach their destination.

* * *

Malcolm Forester had risen just a little later than he had intended. That was not so surprising. It had been a long journey from Kvatch the previous day. With that diversion to Fort Istirus, it had taken a little longer than he had intended. It was quite late in the evening by that time that he finally made it home. He planned to be up well before seven, but his tired body had other ideas. Still, at least he had managed to wake well before eight.

That last part of the journey back to Skingrad along The Gold Road had passed relatively quietly. They hadn't even seen anyone along the road until they passed a Legion rider near the vineyards just outside of the city.

Forester had spoken with Fadren a few times along the road. He was somewhat intrigued by the earnest nature of the Dunmer. Most of the Dunmer that Forester had met seemed to carry themselves with a measure of arrogance, some more than others. Of course, there were those that at least tried to reign in their sense of racial superiority, but it was not uncommon to encounter those that wore it like a badge of honour. Even Alaron Suvaris seemed to carry a little of the Morrowind of old at times; and he was from the more rural regions of the south.

Although Forester held no first hand experience, it seemed that Solstheim and Skyrim might have shaped the Dunmer a little differently. He also supposed that it probably had a great deal to do with the destruction of their homeland. That was something that he wouldn't usually be the one to raise in discussion with a Dunmer.

He thought that Fadren seemed likeable enough and rather open, for a Dunmer. He had told Forester that he had been no more than a general labourer for the shipping companies and some other outfits before he had met his master. It had been shortly after he had witnessed the skills of Aras Fals as a healer that his path had changed.

Forester was interested to learn that there was no College of Whispers or Synod in northern Skyrim. As Fadren understood it, the organisation of mages in Skyrim had become rather disordered since the breakdown of the Imperial Mages Guild several decades ago. The only remaining establishment was the college of mages at the city of Winterhold, on the northern coast. Fadren believed that place had been only loosely affiliated with the Empire's old Mages Guild and remained relatively unaffected by its absence.

According to Fadren, Aras Fals had not had much to do with that place at Winterhold. He had originally gained his training in Morrowind in the old days. From time to time, he took on students to pass on his knowledge to those that showed some potential.

Forester had found all of that quite interesting. He was vaguely envious of the way that the Dunmer had the opportunity to pursue his mage training in that fashion. He had told Fadren that he had previously trained with both the College Of Whispers and the Synod for a time before joining the Fighter's Guild.

After having spoken with Fadren for a while and taking his measure, Forester was even more inclined to help him find his missing associate.

Upon reaching Skingrad, Forester had guided Fadren to that tavern not far from his home, the Great Chapel Lodge. Even though it was rather late, they managed to acquire hot meals from the service bar. Being Loredas evening, it was quite busy in the tavern area.

Forester had reasonably suspected that the Dunmer might not have much gold, but he didn't ask. Instead, he had offered accommodation in the spare room of his house. Fadren had graciously accepted.

Since Forester had already slept about an hour longer than he expected that morning, he readied himself quickly. He emerged from his room fully dressed in his mithril armour with his helmet under his arm. It seemed that Fadren had already departed the spare room. There was no sign of him upstairs. Heading downstairs, Forester had briefly hoped that he not misjudged the Dunmer. He found Fadren sitting quietly by the table outside the kitchen.

Fadren turned to see his host arrive. "Good morning to you, sera." He started to rise from his seat, but Forester waved him back down.

"And to you, Fadren. Please, most of my friends just call me Forester."

"Your friends call you by your family name?"

Forester scratched his nose. "To be honest, I'm not all that fond of Malcolm. It sounds a little too… Colovian."

Fadren seemed a bit confused. "Colovian is Imperial, is it not?"

"Quite right." Forester returned a mild grin. He avoided getting into a discussion over the differences between Colovian and Nibenese heritage. It truth, he was actually a little of both.

Fadren maintained his humility. "I must again offer my gratitude for your kindness."

Forester waved it off. "Think nothing of it. I would offer you something this morning, but my larder is rather spare." Forester had indicated his kitchen area. "There's not much point in keeping it stocked when I'm away."

Fadren bowed his head slightly. "You have already offered more than enough."

Forester resumed. "Well, I need to visit the Fighter's Guild this morning. There is an excellent bakery just around the corner. It's more or less on the way."

"As you say." Fadren again bowed his head.

"Afterward, I might be able to help you in your search for your fellow Dunmer."

Rising from his chair, Fadren again expressed his gratitude with a silent gesture.

Forester and Fadren had soon left the house, emerging onto the streets of The Chapel District. Forester led the Dunmer along the street toward the bakery. By that time, there were several people upon the streets. A number of them were coming from the direction of the temple. The Great Chapel of Julianos generally hosted a greater number of visitors on Sundas mornings, as was the case with any of the temples for the Divines.

They stopped at the bakery, just near the Great Chapel Lodge. The offerings were always freshest at that time of the morning. They made their purchases and continued, eating along the way. Forester led the Dunmer out of The Chapel District and across The Low Street, into Hightown. They passed the West Weald Inn and came to a stop outside the Fighter's Guild.

Forester turned to Fadren. "It's probably best that you wait outside. The Guild Porter can be somewhat… unfriendly to outsiders, at times. Better to avoid any difficulty."

"As you say." Fadren accepted the advice without any offence.

"I shouldn't be too long." Forester assured.

Fadren returned silent acknowledgment and settled against the stone wall as Forester disappeared inside the Guildhall.

Despite his assurances, Forester was gone for quite a while. Almost a half-hour had passed before he finally emerged from the front door.

Forester wore a serious expression. "I'm afraid I must offer my apologies." He shook his head. "It seems that urgent matters have arisen in my absence. I need to go assist some fellow Guild members over at Silorn." He waved his hand in a vaguely southern direction.

Fadren remained silent a moment.

With a sigh, Forester continued. "I was hoping to help you find your fellow Dunmer. I suppose the best I can do now is point you in the right direction." He turned to look up the street. "The College of Whispers is right there." He indicated the large stone building next door. "Someone there might be able to help. Feel free to mention my name. They all know me well enough." He paused to point further up the hill. "There's an alchemist store up the street on the right that might also be worth trying. Oh, there's another person you could speak to." He turned to indicate the inn. "If you go to the West Weald Inn, you should ask to see an old Altmer called Sinderion. He might know something."

Fadren responded. "That is most kind. You have been quite helpful. Perhaps, I could offer some help with your task?"

Forester looked down, shaking his head. "No, no. Some vampires attacked some mage scholars. Anyway, it's Fighter's Guild business." Forester paused; realising his mouth was running ahead of good sense. "I expect I'll be back in Skingrad by tomorrow morning. I'll try to find you and see if you've had any luck. If not, then I might be able to help some more."

Fadren appeared to accept Forester's words.

After a brief farewell, Forester headed off for The Low Street at a brisk pace. Fadren had waited near the College of Whispers for just a few moments. Once he was certain that Forester was out of sight and well on his way, he started to follow discreetly. It seemed that he was back to where he was before. Only now, Forester was making things even more difficult.

As Forester disappeared through the gates at the far end of that broad street that ran through the middle of the city, Fadren considered some of the things that he'd just heard. It seemed that Forester was headed for a place for Silorn. Mage scholars were mentioned and a vampire threat. Some ideas began to form in his mind. He thought it best to allow Forester to reach his destination well ahead of him without any notion that he was being closely followed.

* * *

Ras'Dar had kept Belwen moving through the forest well past nightfall during the previous evening. Both moons had been high in the sky for some time before he finally relented and sought a suitable place to rest for the night. Of course, a suitable resting-place was relative to their circumstances. Another night was passed up in the branches of a tree.

At some point during the earlier hours of that evening, their path through the forest had again started to head downhill. However, that time their downhill progress was taking them north into the south of Cyrodiil. Ras'Dar wasn't really certain exactly where the border was situated. Still, it was reasonable to expect that if they weren't already in Cyrodiil, they soon would be.

The dawn seemed to have arrived slowly that morning. A heavy cloud cover had rolled in as they slept in the tree. There was no indication of it as darkness came the previous day. There was just some patchy cloud cover obscuring the moonlight during the evening. As much as they could see through the canopy of the forest, it seemed like the kind of dark and heavy cloud that threatened rain. Belwen was not looking forward to another soaking.

The possibility of rain was the least of Ras'Dar's concerns. He was hoping that the armoured High Elves that seemed to be roaming the western forest of Elsweyr did not roam as far as the south of Cyrodiil.

Not long after they had set off that morning, Ras'Dar had spotted the mound of one of those ground pheasants near some underbrush. Unlike the one they saw being ransacked by forest rats, that nest appeared undisturbed. The Khajiit took the opportunity to test their fortunes. It seemed that luck was with them. He found three eggs inside the nest and they couldn't have been more than a few days old.

Despite her hunger, Belwen still required a little persuasion to eat the raw eggs. She was more accustomed to properly prepared foods. Nevertheless, she needed to eat and she couldn't afford to be choosy.

Aside from the odd berry bush that they found, the only other things they'd come across were a few mushrooms that were safe to eat. There were plenty of mushrooms in the forest, but most of them were not so safe. Luckily for Belwen, Ras'Dar knew which kinds were which. Of course, she had no idea.

For the most part, Belwen had remained quiet as she followed her Khajiit companion through the forest. It seemed that he rarely spoke unless he thought there was something important to say. Accordingly, she tried to do the same.

About half way through the morning, Ras'Dar had paused to look ahead through the trees. Satisfied with what he could see, he leaned against the trunk of a tree. "Time for a short rest, yes?"

Belwen nodded. "Yes." She sat upon a fallen log to rest her legs.

Ras'Dar took a sip from his water flask and passed it to Belwen.

Belwen was thirsty, but the flask was not heavy. She took just a sip. "The water is running low." She handed it back.

Ras'Dar had looked back at her as though she said something funny. "This one thinks that water cannot be far." He waved his paw northward. "Water must flow downhill. Ras'Dar expects to find it soon enough." He looked to the sky through the canopy above. "Also likely that water might soon fall from the sky. Better than no water, yes?"

"I suppose so." Belwen had to agree that it would be better to be soaking wet, than to die from thirst.

After the short rest, Ras'Dar and Belwen continued to travel further northward. For the most part, they were still going downhill. Throughout the morning, it appeared that the forest was beginning to thin as they progressed further in that direction. Upon occasion, there was some sign of more open land off in the distance. Ras'Dar was becoming more confident that they had to be in Cyrodiil by then.

* * *

Monika and Alex had left Skingrad shortly after the dawn. There was nothing but a lesser stabling facility located outside the gates of the eastern wall. It was rather different from the area outside the main gates on the other side of the city. Aside from the bored guard at the gates, there wasn't anybody out there at that time of the morning.

A narrow trail skirted along the city wall to the left. It was reasonable to assume that it led to the eastern crop fields they had seen the previous day. It was also reasonable to assume that nobody passed that way, as the fields lay fallow for the coming winter.

Just up ahead, a tall stone bridge crossed overhead, leading from one hilltop to Castle Skingrad. Only the stone walls and spires were visible from down below. It provided no indication of what lay behind the castle walls. That bridge was the only way into the castle. It was well protected by the steep hillsides and those tall stone walls.

Old Gold Road wound about the hills south of the city. It eventually connected with the main road a little further east. Well before that, Alex and Monika had turned off to the south along the West Weald Track. That lesser road led them up over another hill and then descended steeply toward the upper reaches of the Strid River.

Across the far side of the narrow valley ahead, the land rose steeply. It appeared fairly heavily forested about those slopes and even more so upon the low mountains. Monika had pointed out that Valenwood was up there to the right and Elsweyr to the left. The border between those two lands was somewhere along those forested mountains.

Coming down that track, the pale stones of broken arches came into view. Alex had thought that it must be Silorn. Monika had told him that it was only the remains of an old Ayleid tower. She expected that it probably had something to do with Silorn, but that place was located a bit further eastward.

Much more came into view as they descended. About the stones ruins of that tower, there were a series of small lakes. Waterfalls cascaded down from each one to the next, feeding into the Strid River below. Monika had pointed out a wooden bridge that crossed the water just near the broken frame of the tower. She told him that the road on the other side of the bridge led to Valenwood, not that anyone travelled that way since the Aldmeri Dominion had closed off the borders to outsiders.

By that time, the Silorn ruins had come into view over the far side of the uppermost lake. Even from that distance, Alex had thought that Silorn appeared much more substantial than any of the other Ayleid ruins that he had seen, not that he'd that many. There seemed to be a series of stone arches of that typical Ayleid style. Some looked to be fairly intact frameworks. Others were just broken columns. One feature stood out. It appeared to be a huge statue of some sort. It looked like a bird with outstretched wings perched atop something. It was hard to tell from that distance.

The track led downhill to where that broken tower was located that Alex had firstly thought was Silorn. An old signpost along the trail indicated directions. One sign pointed back toward Skingrad. Another sign indicated the cities of Bravil and Riverhold to the east. It made no mention of Silorn. The sign that pointed southward had been defaced. Alex couldn't read what it was meant to say. The words burned into the wood now read, NO MANS LAND.

Monika had commented that those lakes were a nice place to take a swim during the summer months. Alex had accepted that they probably were, although it required some imagination under those gray autumn skies. Although the weather had held so far, it certainly looked like it was going to rain.

The West Weald Track led along the northern side of the uppermost lake. Another wooden bridge crossed over the water to the other side. The bridge seemed old and rickety. It appeared safe enough for foot traffic. However, nothing but the smallest of wagons would be likely to use it, if any actually came that way.

Alex had been quite distracted by the sight of the ruins just across the small lake. It seemed far larger than those few that he had seen before. He'd really only seen four other Ayleid ruins from a close distance. Even then, that was only from the outside and not really all that close up. None of those others were much to look at. Nothing more than a few broken columns and arches and the remaining entrance to the underground areas. Really, Silorn was also mostly made up of broken columns and arches, but there was a lot more of it. Aside from that statue with the stone bird perched atop, he couldn't yet see what was on the other side of the nearest walls.

"Are we still going to Silorn first?" Alex sounded a bit too enthusiastic.

Monika responded in a more ordinary tone. "Yeah. I still want to talk to those scholars before heading for those caves."

"Okay." Alex remained somewhat distracted; he was a little more interested in seeing the Ayleid ruins up close. Though he didn't really expect there would be much opportunity for a proper look about.

They followed the track along until they reached the trail that led back into the ruins. It was not exactly what Alex had been expecting. The old ruins were large and spread out over a fair area, but there wasn't really all that much to see. Most of it was just empty space. Alex was disappointed to learn that the towering stone statue in the middle was probably the most interesting feature. He could actually see the statue more clearly as they approached. A large multi-tiered and ornate pedestal was decorated with carvings of hideous faces. That lower section supported the figure of an ancient elven soldier in full armour. The huge bird seemed to be springing forth from the soldier's shoulders. Alex thought that it looked like it represented something of special significance, but he didn't know much about the ancient Ayleids. He considered asking Monika about it, but she continued marching purposefully toward the mage's encampment over the far side.

There were more than a dozen large tents set up in a long line over near the framework of the largest stone tower. A couple of robed mages were in view as well as two others dressed plainly. Alex spotted another person up on the platform of the tower behind the tents. The figure seemed to disappear out of view as though walking down steps into the structure. That reminded him of something that Monika had previously mentioned; that most of what remained of those Ayleid ruins was generally located below ground.

Alex watched on quietly as Monika spoke with the mage scholars. An Imperial man in plain clothes seemed to behave like he was in charge. He had mentioned that most of the others were currently down inside the ruins. Monika had tried to learn as much as possible about the vampires that attacked them, but they hadn't been all that helpful. They just didn't know much more than had already been reported. Three vampires attacked the encampment at night. Two of the scholars had been fed upon. Two other scholars were injured fighting off the attackers. The vampires had fled eastward into the dark. The only fresh detail was that nobody had been infected. Or at the least, the disease was not at all resistant to conventional cure.

Monika seemed a little annoyed that the scholars couldn't tell them more, but thanked them for their time. Alex had remained somewhat distracted by the ruins site. Still, he had been listening closely enough. He quickly matched Monika's pace as she turned and started off back the way they had come.

"So, what now?" Alex checked if there was any change in plan.

Monika glanced at Alex with a grimace. "Nothing's different. We get back onto the West Weald Track, then cut across up to where Howling Cave is supposed to be."

Alex just nodded. "Okay, then."

Monika glanced to Alex again, taking his arm. "Listen, I want you to be careful on this one. Vampires aren't like those raised undead we fought before. These things can be fast and they can almost disappear right in front of you."

Alex tried to appear confident as they returned to the road. "I understand. I remember what you told me last night."

"Remember to go for quick kills and try to keep your distance."

"I remember." Alex assured.

A male voice called out from behind. "Northwind. Pinewatch."

They stopped and turned to see the Imperial man in mithril armour heading quickly along the track toward them. His neatly cropped beard was easily visible below his helmet.

"Forester." Alex sounded off enthusiastically.

"Wait up." Forester called back, rushing along the track toward them.

Monika spoke as he drew near. "We heard you were away."

Forester held up his hand as he caught his breath. "Well, I… I just got back. Canne sent me to help go after these vampires."

Monika sounded a little more formal than usual. "That's good. Are you properly briefed and prepared?"

Forester offered a grin. "Of course." He paused. "It's good to see you both again."

"I am glad to see you, also." Alex chimed in. "I am glad that you are all right… after that day at the grove."

"Almost as good as new." Forester patted his thigh. "You're looking much better than the last time I saw you." Alex was still unconscious in the Imperial Tower the last time Forester had actually seen him.

"Yes. Much better." Alex agreed.

Monika interjected. "We heard you were asking about us around Chorrol."

"Oh, yes." Forester responded. "Since I was over there, I thought I'd try to catch up, but you were away. Karl gro-Baroth said you'd gone up north."

Monika glanced briefly at Alex. "Uh, yeah. We, uh… we went up to Skyrim for a bit."

"Truly?" Forester seemed interested.

"Yeah, but right now, we need to worry about these vampires." Monika returned the subject to the task at hand.

"Of course." Forester agreed. "Have you spoken with the scholars at Silorn?"

"Yeah, thought of that. They weren't much help." Monika's expression clearly indicated her frustration.

"Very well." Forester accepted. "Canne advised checking out Howling Cave as the most likely place."

"Yeah. That's where we're headed." Monika waved her hand in the general direction of their destination. "We should get moving. The sky doesn't look good."

"You're right, of course." Forester accepted. "You are properly prepared for this, I should hope?" His tone sounded serious, almost like an accusation.

Monika glared harshly at Forester, seemingly challenging him. He maintained a serious expression, but said no more.

Alex was wondering what he was missing in that silent exchange. Looking past Forester, he had noticed something that the both of them were missing. "There is someone coming this way."

Monika and Forester shifted their attention to see the robed Dunmer with the dark beard running along the track toward them. Monika's posture had tensed. Forester's shoulders sagged.

Forester spoke up. "It's alright. I know this man…Dunmer."

The Dunmer didn't slow until he almost reached their position.

Forester spoke first. "Fadren, what are doing here?"

The Dunmer bowed his head in a subtle manner. "Please accept my apology, sera."

Forester shook his head slightly. "It's Forester."

"Yes, Forester." Fadren maintained a tone of humility.

"Why are you here?" Forester pressed.

Fadren composed himself just briefly. "I had given some consideration to some things that you said." He paused. "You mentioned mage scholars and vampires. Someone was kind enough to direct me toward Silorn. I considered the possibility that Daras Garil could be among the scholars or possibly be known to them. More than that, I thought I might be able to help."

Forester sighed. "I did tell you it was Fighter's Guild business."

"As you say." Fadren gestured humbly. "I have fought vampires before. I admit that my master was more skilled. However, my skills with the proper spells are quite sufficient."

Monika interrupted. "Who is this Dunmer?"

Forester sighed again. "Fadren is a mage from Skyrim."

"His accent sounds like Solstheim." Monika's comment indicated some suspicion.

"Yes, that's right." Forester confirmed. "Fadren mentioned Solstheim, as well. We met along the road from Kvatch. He tried to help… with a little incident along the way."

Monika's patience sounded strained. "What's he doing here?"

Forester glanced to Monika briefly, then back toward the Dunmer. "Fadren is looking for another former student of his old master. He uh… he was sort of with me… when I learned of this mission." That was a vaguely accurate version of events.

"Well, he shouldn't be here." Monika protested.

"She's right." Forester agreed. "You really shouldn't have followed me."

Fadren again bowed his head. "My apologies… Forester."

Forester responded. "Well, look. Silorn is just over there. You might try to speak with the mage scholars. Someone there might be able help you."

Fadren's humility appeared to falter a little. "Daras has been in Cyrodiil for more than ten years. Another day could hardly matter. Also, I do feel indebted to you and I do know some old and rare spells from my master that cause harm to vampires. I do not possess the power to sustain the great wall-of-flames, but I am skilled enough with a sunlight spell…"

Forester cut him off. "A sunlight spell?"

Fadren nodded. "A small source of sunlight. Close enough, a vampire will suffer weakness. Actual contact will bring greater harm."

Forester stared a moment. He glanced to Monika. "I can't do that. That could be really useful."

Monika didn't seem so open. "I don't like it."

Alex weighed in. "Another skilled mage…"

Monika's sharp glance encouraged him to be quiet. "This… Fadren, he's not with the Guild. He shouldn't be here."

Forester agreed. "You're right, of course."

"I really would like to help." Fadren's expression seemed quite earnest. "I also hope to accept your help afterward in my search for Daras."

Forester huffed as he considered Fadren's appeal. He again turned to Monika. "We really could use his help. I have found Fadren to be of good character. Under my proper instruction…"

Monika stared back at Forester, considering his suggestion. She shook her head slowly. "I hope you know what you're doing." After a short pause. "Come on, then. We really need to get moving."

Forester gestured to Fadren to come along.

Fadren's teeth flashed though his dark beard. An indication that he was pleased with the decision to allow him to offer assistance.

The four of them continued along the track for a short distance. Monika soon paused at a bend in the road, where she believed they should turn off to cut across the hills to the north.

Monika led, with Alex by her side. Forester and Fadren trailed just behind. As they walked, Forester had offered some instruction to Fadren. He also probed to learn just what kinds of magic that the Dunmer brought to the situation.

Almost a couple of hours had passed since they had left the vicinity of the ruins of Silorn. Approaching their destination, a rocky outcrop had come into view amongst a copse of trees. Just in front of that outcrop, there were the remains of a low stone wall and a number of gravestones. All of it appeared quite old.

Alex spoke up. "Is this the right place? I thought it used to be a mine." There was nothing obvious to identify the location as Howling Cave.

Forester offered an explanation. "I think there used to be a small settlement around here. Of course, that was back in the first or second era, I believe. I might expect that the gravestones could be directly related to the mine. When it was still used as a mine, of course."

Monika voiced her own thoughts. "This has to be the place. I'm sure of it."

In the shadow of a large tree near the rocky outcrop, there was an old wooden door barring the entrance to the cave system. There were obvious signs of recent entry. The ground was marked where the door swung outward. From the look of it, the scoring could easily have been from the previous evening. Monika had examined the door, testing it carefully. It didn't seem locked or barred.

Monika stepped back from the old wooden door and looked to each of the others. "Are we all good to go?"

Forester spoke up. "Just a moment. I really do need to go behind the bushes."

Monika said nothing, looking away. Forester sought a suitable place.

Alex spoke up as well. "I need to take a leak too."

"Hurry up, then." Monika shook her head.

Fadren remained composed and silent.

Monika retrieved the special poisons that she acquired the previous day. She proceeded to dip the points of several of the silver tipped arrows in the poison. Once Alex had returned, she instructed him to do the same. They also got some of the poison onto their silver blades. Fortunately, the mixture was viscous and sticky enough that it tended to remain upon the metal. Evidently, Forester had failed to outfit himself with a silver blade before leaving the Guildhall. He only had his usual sword of fine steel and his ebony dagger. Fadren only had a dagger. She realised that the pair of them intended to lean toward the use of magic. Still, she advised them both to make use of some of the poison on their blades.

It was difficult to tell under the dark clouds, but it had to be midday by that time.

Since Forester had offered no objection, Monika was still taking the lead. "Okay, then. If everyone is ready, we should probably get this started."

Each of the others had indicated their readiness. Both Monika and Alex held their bows. Forester and Fadren each carried a single blade at the ready, keeping one hand free for casting magic. Alex suppressed any thoughts of trepidation and stepped forward to the old wooden door.

~O~


	22. Chapter 22

Evening Star

Greg J Miller

~O~

Chapter 22

Sundas the 29th of Frostfall 4E48 Afternoon

Alex pulled open the old wooden door at the entrance to Howling Cave, but Monika moved to go in ahead of him. Beyond the immediate reach of the daylight from the doorway, the tunnel seemed to descend into darkness. Monika had paused just inside, allowing a moment for her eyes to adjust. Alex was preparing to follow as Forester interrupted.

"Wait a moment." Forester had spoken in a subdued tone.

Monika tilted her head to listen, but said nothing.

Forester continued. "Some detection spells might be a good idea."

Monika nodded. She was a little annoyed with herself for not making that suggestion beforehand. She backed up out of the entryway. Both Monika and Alex had stepped aside to give Forester clear access to move forward.

Fadren had been standing back the whole time, quietly observing the impromptu waltz of the three Guild Fighters. It had only just occurred to him that he recognised Alex and Monika as the two Nords from that vision he received from Azura. In part, he had failed to immediately notice only because he had been so caught up in his belief of Forester's importance. Just briefly, he also wondered about the Khajiit and Bosmer that he had also seen in the visions. He put aside those thoughts to pay attention to the immediate concern.

Forester had faced the direction of the cave entrance and closed his eyes. He held his palms outward and whispered a spell. A misty glow emanated from his hands, accompanied by a subtle whooshing sound. He remained motionless for a short moment. "Nothing alive down there, it would seem." He repeated the whole procedure a second time, but with a slightly different spell. Once the effect had again faded, Forester opened his eyes. He stared ahead for another moment before speaking quietly. "There are eight that I can detect. Vampires or other undead, I should think."

"I have a map." Monika pulled out the parchment.

Forester turned to face Monika and examined the layout. "There doesn't seem to be anything in that first area. There were three faint figures in that direction, but they must be further along in that other area toward the back." He indicated a larger chamber separated from the first by a narrow tunnel. "Three over to the right must be in that area." He indicated a chamber that branched off to that side. "Another two on the left. Presumably, somewhere in that area."

Monika, Alex and Fadren had been watching carefully as Forester pointed out what he had detected.

"I don't suppose you could tell if they were active?" Monika made the query.

Forester shook his head. "None of them were moving, but that doesn't mean much."

Alex spoke up. "I thought that vampires rested during daylight hours."

Monika responded. "Won't be any daylight down there."

Forester spoke again. "At the very least, they're not all together." He looked to Monika. "What do you suggest?"

Looking at the map, Monika made her calls. "We should go in quietly and stick together. Try to deal with each group one at a time, if we can. Take out those ones on the right first."

Monika paused, looking up at Forester. "Your fire might be effective, but arrows are much quieter. Alex and I at the front, you just behind. We'll shift to each side if it becomes necessary. Your friend can cover the rear."

Forester indicated his agreement. Fadren's silent gesture also indicated his understanding.

Monika continued. "After that, we do the same on the left side, then we go back to get that area at the rear." She paused. "Unless everything turns to shit, we stay as quiet as possible and work through them as we find them."

Each of the others appeared to agree with her plan of attack.

Monika hesitated a moment, then gently spun Alex about to gain access to his backpack. She rummaged for something she had previously stored in there. She retrieved two vials of potion.

Alex was wondering what it was about. "Which ones…?"

"The Nighteye." Monika's expression was serious. She placed the potion in his hand.

"I do not think…" Alex remained nervous of using those kinds of potions.

"Forget that, just this once. We're going to need it." Monika took a sip and stuffed the vial into a pocket. "Just short sips, as you need it."

Reluctantly, Alex complied and did the same. Monika's behaviour was actually making him a little more nervous than he expected. She hadn't seemed quite that unsettled during those missions for the Penitus Oculatus at Bravil and Wellspring Grove.

Monika prepared her bow and started to move slowly into the cave entrance. Alex blinked a couple of times as his vision started to alter. He also prepared his bow and moved to follow her. Forester and Fadren had been waiting patiently. Once both Monika and Alex were clear of the entryway, they followed behind. Forester had told Fadren to leave the door open. It didn't allow much light inside, but it helped a little. At least for that first part.

Alex tried to subdue his surprise as he peered ahead through the darkness. It seemed that everything was starting to turn to shades of blue. The dark walls ahead were no longer black shadows. He could easily make out the rough-hewn sides of the cavern. The wider area ahead of them had a series of old wooden supports. They seemed only barely intact. In blue tinted shades, Alex could actually make out the splits and cracks in the old timber. At least two of the beams that braced the ceiling looked like they might splinter and fall at any time. A number of wooden planks that braced the sides of the walls had come free and lay upon the ground of the cavern. Far off in the distance, Alex could see a lantern hanging upon the wall at the back. It seemed to barely flicker, as though it was just burning the last of its oil. He could no longer tell if it cast any light around it. To his eyes, everything was just blue.

Along that first section of the old mine, it was easily broad enough for all four of them to pass side by side. However, Forester and Fadren remained just behind as planned. Monika and Alex kept moving steadily forward, Monika perhaps just a pace ahead.

They soon neared the far end of that first area. So far, other than that lantern burning low, there was no other sign of anyone or anything. Monika had paused to peer in each direction. Past a few timber supports, a tunnel off to the left disappeared around a sharp turn after a short distance. Just a little bit to the right, a narrow tunnel continued further forward. It appeared to descend to a lower level than that first area. Off to the right, the passageway narrowed a little, but remained fairly broad. It also descended gently downward. More wooden supports could be seen down there.

Monika had paused just where the ground started to descend. She turned to touch Alex's arm before making a show of taking another sip of the potion. Alex didn't argue, following her action.

They all proceeded slowly forward in that same formation. Where the ground began to level out, the tunnel widened to a larger chamber.

Alex's attention was drawn to the movement of a small flickering flame. A few candles sat atop a small rock. Only one was burning. The wick was so low that it was likely to topple into the pooling wax in a few moments. He couldn't really tell, but he expected that it was not casting much light.

Through the well-spaced timber supports, three figures lay prone in front of a wooden framework. Alex had been vaguely expecting to see coffins or boxes of some sort. That was really just because of something he'd once heard in a tavern. The three vampires were resting motionless upon bedrolls.

Monika had stolen a few quick glances about to be sure that those three targets were the only things to consider. She glanced to Alex, making certain that he was ready. She signalled him to cover the left. Monika took the right.

Forester held his sword at the ready. He was quietly whispering to himself, presumably preparing his fireball spells. Fadren held back with dagger in hand.

Both archers had poisoned silver tipped arrows at the ready. At Monika's signal, they drew back to take their shots. Almost simultaneously, Monika and Alex had unleashed their arrows. Both shots struck the intended targets. Monika had readied a second arrow from her hip quiver a little faster than Alex had managed to mirror her actions.

It came as no surprise to learn that neither of those two vampires had been fatally wounded. Both were struggling to roll aside, trying to get up. The movement of those others had disturbed the vampire in the middle. However, that one had been a little slow to react to the circumstance. Perhaps, not yet realising what was happening.

Monika had put a second arrow into her first target, before just briefly shifting focus to the one in middle. She had yet to miss any target, but her strikes had not produced fatal results.

Alex had concentrated his shots toward the one on the left. By the time he had fired off four shots, he had scored two hits and two misses. The vampire was staggered, but not down. He kept firing, hoping to manage a critical strike. He expected that the silver and the poison were having a harmful effect, but he wasn't counting on that to bring things to an end.

Forester could hardly see what was going on, but he was bristling to participate. He was prepared to start launching an attack, but reluctant to make any loud noise unless absolutely necessary. His fireballs would be effective, but loud. He was trying to anticipate how long he should wait before pressing forward with his sword. He knew that doing so would interfere with the effectiveness of the archers.

Not every one of Monika's shots had struck home. Still, her primary target had finally gone down, but it might not have been down for good. She shifted her attention back to that least affected target. The vampire in the middle didn't appear to be wielding any conventional weapons. From the way it was holding its hands, it looked like it was trying to summon magic.

With all those arrows sticking out of it, Alex's primary target looked like one of his grandmother's pincushions. It had finally collapsed to the ground. He expected that it was more about the collective effects of the silver and the poison than a particularly critical wound.

The vampire that had been in the middle was wounded, but it had managed to collect itself well enough to prepare to lunge forward. Fadren had deftly slid past Forester and hurled his dagger. The blade sailed through the air and landed in the eye-socket of the remaining vampire. It twitched momentarily in mid step, then slowly collapsed to the ground.

Both Monika and Alex had kept their bows at the ready. It was only once all three of the vampires were down that Alex had silently noted that they were all male. It was difficult to tell which races they had been before becoming vampires. Two looked like they had been humans. The third appeared elvish, but he couldn't tell which kind with any certainty.

Moving with caution, Forester stepped forward with his sword. With a clean stroke, he removed the head of the one with a dagger in its eye. He fumbled a little with second, taking two strokes and kicking the head loose with his boot. The third came away more cleanly.

As Forester ensured that the vampires were done, Fadren had leaned down to light a second candle, just before the other one flickered out.

Alex had been closely watching Forester. He had kept his bow ready. He wasn't fully convinced that the vampires would remain inactive. He was a bit more confident once each of their heads had come off.

Monika had been looking back into the darkness behind them, listening intently for any sign of trouble. Their actions had been fairly quiet, but not perfectly silent. So far, there had been no sign of anything, but she took nothing for granted.

Forester wiped the mess from his blade upon the clothing of the nearest vampire. Fadren had quietly retrieved his dagger and did the same.

Monika whispered quietly to Alex, advising him to retrieve some of the arrows. Also reminding him to be careful of the poisoned tips. She returned to watching the entrance behind them.

Alex was morbidly fascinated as he observed the body of a vampire slowly desiccate before him. He expected that it might be no more than a pile of dust and bones in a fairly short while. He had little trouble pulling the arrows free.

Forester stepped up beside Monika. There was still no sign of any activity. Monika had pulled out the poison again. She whispered as she handed it to Forester, ensuring that he knew what it was in that dim light. He understood her meaning. He dripped a little onto the blade of his sword. He waved Fadren over toward him to poison his own dagger blade.

Alex returned with the serviceable arrows that he collected. Monika passed him the poison, indicating that he should dip the arrow tips before returning them to the quivers.

With the weapons properly prepared again, they moved back up toward the primary chamber. Monika had taken another sip of Nighteye. She nudged Alex, encouraging him to do the same.

They slowed and paused briefly as they passed the tunnel that led deeper into the old mine. Peering along the dark tunnel and listening carefully, there was still no indication that any vampires had been alerted to their presence.

Maintaining their formation, they moved across that area. They passed the flickering lantern and another row of timber supports as they headed toward the narrow tunnel across the other side. Both Monika and Alex had paused with brief alarm at the sound of a creaking timber support above their heads. Forester and Fadden's only obvious reaction was to pause momentarily to avoid running into the two archers.

Monika took the lead down the narrow tunnel as they shifted into a single file. It was only about five or six paces to a sharp right-hand turn. Monika had paused to look along the next length of tunnel. It was a good fifteen paces to where a larger chamber opened up at the far end.

Monika led the group along the tunnel, pausing at the end. She peered around the corner. The broader chamber extended to the right. There were a number of timber supports along that space. It was more than thirty paces to the far end. Half way up that chamber, two more side-tunnels were visible, one on either side. About three quarters along, there was a wooden crate by the cavern wall with a small lantern burning low.

Monika moved forward into the cavern with her bow drawn. Alex cautiously followed and stepped about to her left. The other two moved along behind them. The vampires remained out of immediate view.

Edging forward toward the middle, Monika had checked the tunnel on the right. It appeared to be only a short excavation. There was nothing there. Alex had looked to the left tunnel. That was also clear. It terminated in a pile of rubble several paces along.

Monika had gently nudged Alex, directing his attention toward the far wall ahead of them. Just past some more timber supports, there were two lumps resting side by side near the wall. Alex and Monika adjusted their positions to ensure a clear line of sight to the targets.

The next few moments were more or less a repeat of the previous attack. The element of surprise had again served quite well. Both Monika and Alex had fired several arrows at the two vampires, staggering them and eventually taking them down. Once they were both dead or disabled, Forester and Fadren had come forward with their blades to make fully certain that the vampires were finished. That pair of vampires had been a male and a female, both looked to have been fair skinned humans before they had become those creatures.

Alex had retrieved any arrows that weren't broken or otherwise damaged and weapons were again prepared before retracing their path.

Provided that map was accurate, there was just one more accessible area to investigate. Forester's detection spells had indicated that there should be just another three vampires down there. Still, he'd been slightly wrong before. There was always the possibility that there could have been more vampires that were out of range at the time. It would have been too risky to check again that close.

They made their way back to the tunnel that led to that third chamber. So far, everything had remained quiet. It seemed that caution had served them well. With any luck, it would soon be over.

The narrow tunnel forced them to proceed in single file once again. The ceiling felt rather low and confining as the tunnel descended steeply for several paces. Monika had slowed and paused where the ground levelled out, just short of where it widened to the chamber ahead.

There were several timber supports directly ahead. The ones toward the far end were split and partially broken. The far end of the cavern had to be nearly forty paces away. Just short of the half way mark, the remains of a wooden framework stood on the right. Monika observed the three bedrolls just in front of that timber framework. Two shadows lay prone upon bedrolls, but one was currently unoccupied.

Monika was immediately alarmed. However, she could see nothing but those two upon the bedrolls. Fully alert, she moved out of the tunnel. She shifted along the wall to the right, keeping her bow trained upon the visible targets.

Alex followed her inside. He saw where Monika was targeting. He also noticed the empty bedroll with some measure of alarm.

Forester and Fadren had started to shuffle forward, but there wasn't enough light for either of them to see anything. Both were holding their blades and making preparations.

Just as Monika had signalled action, Alex had spotted a vague shimmer ahead to his left. There was no source of flame to produce such an effect. He hoped his best guess was the right thing. He quickly adjusted his aim toward the shimmer before unleashing his arrow.

Alex had guessed correctly. The arrow hung in mid air for just a moment. A blurry figure formed to reveal a huge female Orc vampire with an arrow in her abdomen. Alex had been a little slow to draw his second arrow.

Monika had only peripherally observed Alex's actions and that third target. She had fired upon the prone vampire upon the right. She hadn't missed. Since Alex was busy elsewhere, she shifted her third shot to the second resting vampire that was beginning to stir. It seemed obvious that it was time to call the mages to action. There was no further need to remain quiet. She called out. "Trouble."

Forester stepped forward. He formed a fireball in his hand. It provided barely enough light for him to see Monika standing nearby and where she was firing. He unleashed the fireball in that direction, calling out to Fadren as he did so. "Light it up."

Fadren understood. He stepped clear of Forester and released a ball of sunlight that he had been preparing. It wasn't very big, but it was quite bright. The glowing ball sailed through the air and stuck to the wall just near the two vampires that Monika and Forester had engaged.

Alex had fired more arrows at the large vampire than had actually struck home. The creature was staggering slightly, but it looked like she was about to fully shake it off and come for him properly.

There was enough light for Forester to notice that Alex was about to be in trouble. He adjusted the aim of his third fireball toward the Orcish vampire. The fireball connected with the vampire's shoulder. She shrieked and tumbled to the side, rolling in the dirt. That action succeeded in mostly extinguishing the flame. Alex's arrow had missed the target completely.

Fadren had launched a second sunlight spell in the direction of that Orcish vampire, but it landed some distance from the creature. Immediately after launching that spell, he had observed Forester shifting off toward the left, so he moved quickly to assist Monika with the two staggering vampires to the right.

Alex had spotted Forester moving into his line of fire. After one last frantic shot, he was preparing to drop his bow and switch to that silver blade.

Forester closed on the Orcish vampire just as she was starting to get up. He was still forming a fireball in his left hand as he brought his sword forward. The vampire had anticipated his attack. She managed to swat him aside with a forceful blow. Forester tumbled past her toward the cavern wall. He managed to keep hold of his sword, but his helmet had come off and bounced away. He seemed more stunned than badly injured.

Alex had rushed forward with his silver sword, only just barely managing to slip his shield down into position before drawing near. He tried to bash the vampire with his shield as he brought his blade about to strike. The vampire had struck back at the shield. Alex took a glancing bow to the forehead from the back of his shield. At that moment, his blade had come down, slicing the vampire somewhere about the chest. The vampire stepped back briefly.

Forester was fumbling to collect himself. He was on the other side of the vampire that Alex was currently engaging. His fireball had dissipated while he was down. He ignored that. He didn't want to risk hitting Alex with fire. He prepared his sword and dagger instead.

By that time, Monika and Fadren had just about finished those two vampires over the right side of the cavern. The poison and the sunlight spell had taken some of the fight from them.

Alex had done his best to ignore the aching of his forehead. So far, he had managed only a few glancing slices into the vampire, nothing of any serious consequence.

Forester had finally returned to the fray. He came up behind the vampire. He sliced with his dagger as he also drove his sword well into the creature's back. The point of the blade protruded out the other side.

Alex reacted accordingly. He used his shield to bash the point of Forester's sword back and then drove his own blade into the vampire's front.

Forester had withdrawn his sword and took the opportunity to try taking the vampire's head. Alex had taken a quick step backward as Forester's sword swung. The strike had not been quite as clean as planned. The vampire's head dangled to one side as its body collapsed to the ground.

Alex stepped to one side as the creature fell toward him. He brought his own blade down to finish what Forester had started.

Monika addressed Fadren. "More light."

Fadren had accommodated the request with a plain ball of light in his hand.

Monika made certain that those two vampires were properly decapitated. Both of them had once been human women, now just headless vampires. She turned to check on Alex and Forester. "We sure that's all of them?"

Forester responded to the cue, casting a detection spell. Alex looked about toward the far end of the cavern. The effects of the Nighteye were beginning to fade. The shades of blue were starting to flicker toward darker colours.

"Nothing that I can detect." Forester announced.

Monika strode over to where Forester and Alex were standing. Fadren followed with his ball of light.

Monika glanced at the headless Orcish vampire. "Is everyone okay?"

Forester responded. "For the most part, I should think. Except for the vampires, of course." He chuckled at his own comment.

Monika noticed the slight cut and swelling lump on Alex's forehead. "You're hurt. Was it from the uh…?"

Alex understood the inference. "No. It was from my shield."

Monika tried to examine the wound.

Alex spoke. "I can manage it." He whispered a healing spell.

"Bloody Divines." It was Forester. He was down on his knees near the back of the cavern with a lighting spell in his hand.

Monika's attention was drawn. "What is it?"

Forester responded in an annoyed tone. "I've lost my bloody helmet." He paused. "It's gone down a hole."

Monika moved toward him. "There's supposed to be a lower level beneath us, but I was told that it's blocked off from old cave-ins."

"Yes. It would seem so." He continued looking down the hole. Forester lamented the loss of his mithril helmet. "That helmet has been with me for quite some time."

"You can't see it down there?" Monika queried.

"No. It's gone." Forester got up and brushed off the dirt. He stepped over to the wall examining something that caught his eye. After a moment, he chuckled again.

Monika looked to Forester with a questioning expression.

Forester paused. "I think this used to be a silver mine." He grinned, considering the irony of vampires seeking refuge in an abandoned silver mine.

Monika turned back toward Alex. "You're all right?"

Alex answered confidently. "Yes, I am fine." He still touched his forehead to check the diminishing lump.

"We've been up close with those vampires. We should take those potions." Monika turned back to Forester as he approached. "Do you have anything to deal with infection?"

Forester understood what she meant. "I know a spell."

Fadren also responded. "As do I."

Forester added further comment. "Still, best to seek a potion from a healer when we get back to the city, just to be sure."

Alex and Monika took the potions to counteract any infection from the vampires. Both Forester and Fadren had cast spells over themselves.

Fadren had provided some light as they had gathered up everything that they had brought with them. Of course, with the notable exception of Forester's lost helmet.

Forester seemed settled. "Well then, that should be that."

"I think so." Monika agreed.

"We will not need to go to that other place?" Alex was referring to those other ruins further east of their location.

Monika shook her head. "I don't think so. This is the closest place to Silorn and we've cleared out the vampires. I'd say it's fair to expect that these were the ones."

Forester interjected. "I think we should just report back to Canne. If we need to do any more, we'll hear about it."

Monika nodded her agreement.

Forester called up his own ball of plain light and took the lead back through the tunnel. Monika and Alex followed behind with Fadren remaining at the rear.

Approaching the final tunnel that led back outside, the light from the open door came into view. A bright flash briefly illuminated the exit to the tunnel. That flash was followed by a loud rumble of thunder.

Forester's remark stated the obvious. "It sounds like a bit of a storm."

A little further along the tunnel, the sound of heavy rain became more obvious. A few rivulets of water ran down the slope from the open doorway.

Forester stopped just short of the exit to the mine. Monika stepped up beside him. It was just wide enough for that. Alex was trying to look past them to see outside. Another flash of lightning lit up the sky. A sharp crack of thunder sounded from somewhere nearby.

Forester commented. "Well, that's a little more than a light shower."

Monika agreed. "Yeah. It's bucketing down."

"Perhaps, we should wait a little while." Forester suggested.

Monika kept looking outside for moment. "Yeah. Maybe you're right." She paused, then turned back to Alex. "We should go back down and wait out this storm."

Alex and Fadren backed up and headed back down the tunnel. Monika and Forester followed behind. They stopped at that first broader section.

Monika spoke. "Alex, can you grab that lantern from the far end?"

"Okay." Alex headed of to retrieve the lantern.

Fadren spoke up. "I could go get those candles." He had already conjured a small ball of light. His expression appeared earnest.

"Okay, then." Monika accepted the offer.

Fadren followed Alex, then veered off to the right.

Both Alex and Fadren had soon returned with the lighting. They all sat down upon the ground of the cavern floor to wait.

Monika took a sip of water from her water-skin. "It's gotta be more than two hours past noon, by now."

Forester responded. "Almost three, by my estimate."

Monika accepted the suggestion with a silent gesture.

Alex spoke. "It will probably be dark by the time we get back."

Forester agreed. "Yes, I expect so."

Alex made another suggestion. "What about Silorn?"

Monika wrinkled her nose. "I'd rather get back to Skingrad."

A brief silence passed, punctuated only by the rumbling thunder outside.

Forester addressed Monika. "Do you have somewhere to stay tonight?"

Monika glanced up. "Not yet. We'll probably try the Great Chapel Inn."

Forester responded. "I don't have that much room, but if you have any trouble, you can stay at my house."

Monika nodded. "Thanks, the offer is appreciated, but we don't want to be any bother. We'll try the inn first."

Forester accepted. "Of course. The offer still stands, should you require it."

Monika nodded sharply. She rummaged through her pack, finding two apples. She passed one to Alex.

Forester added another comment. "It's the thirtieth tomorrow. Emperor's Day."

"I forgot about that." Monika had been too caught up with the current circumstances to give it any thought.

Alex responded to Forester's comment. "What happens on Emperor's Day?" It wasn't really celebrated back in Falkreath any more. It hadn't been for a long time.

Forester shed some light. "There's a bit of a festival in Skingrad. Not as big as the one in the Imperial City. Still, it should be quite busy in The Low Street tomorrow."

Responding to Alex's questions, Forester went on to elaborate further. Fadren had been quietly observing the discourse between the Guild Fighters with casual interest. From earlier comments, he had already gathered that they all knew each other well enough. It seemed that those other two were usually based in Chorrol. From observation, he had also concluded that they were lovers. He pondered how they might fit in with his mission to locate and retrieve Azura's Star. As far as he could tell, it didn't seem that any of them were actively seeking that artefact that the Synod had asked the Fighter's Guild to find.

Provided that they actually found Azura's Star, Fadren had been beginning to believe that Forester might be persuaded to allow him to return the object to where it belonged. He also expected that the young Nord fellow might not be too much trouble, if Forester was agreeable. However, he was less optimistic over how the woman might react to the notion.

Fadren did not really want to have to fight them for it. For one, he was not confident that he could easily beat them. Aside from that, he did not really want to hurt any of them.

The Dunmer remained quiet as the other three passed the time in broken conversation. The storm continued to rage on outside the cavern for quite a while.

* * *

Almost two hours had gone by before the storms had seemed to pass. At Monika's suggestion, Alex had dashed up the tunnel to take a look outside.

Alex's face remained in shadow, but his tone sounded positive. "The storm is gone, but it is still raining a little. Hardly at all, really. It is starting to look a little dark out there."

Monika had already risen, starting to collect her gear. "We should get moving. We've wasted enough time waiting around."

"Of course." Forester also started to collect himself.

Fadren required no effort to be ready. He was already standing and waiting quietly as the others gathered up their weapons and other equipment.

They emerged from the tunnel into the dimmed afternoon light. The rain had eased to no more than the lightest of sprinkling. It was only slightly more substantial than a mist. The heavy cloud cover obscured the position of the sun. By that time, it would have been well upon its way toward the western horizon.

The ground was sodden beneath their boots as they headed off back down the slope toward the West Weald Track. Given the state of the weather, there was no question that it would be well and truly dark long before they reached Skingrad.

Fadren had been mildly surprised that other three had hardly spoken since leaving the old mine behind. Before then, it seemed that they had hardly stopped talking since finishing those vampires. Still, their conversations had served to inform him of various things that might well prove useful in due course. The current silence had given Fadren more time to digest that information.

Just as they had finally reached the West Weald Track, a loud noise was heard coming from the trees upon the hillside over the southern side of that road. It had been a loud cracking sound, but not loud enough to be thunder.

The group of four came to a halt upon the road. A male voice had shouted something unintelligible. There was a brief flash visible from amongst the trees on the hillside and a second crack rang out. Another shout was heard.

The woodlands of those slopes were not really so thick. However, there was enough foliage to obscure a clear view of the source of the noises. The sounds had echoed about the hills, providing some added distraction. Still, all of it seemed to be coming from somewhere up that hill directly ahead.

From a small copse of trees just off to the left of where the group of four stood, a soggy-looking Khajiit and an equally wet Bosmer girl had suddenly emerged, running at full tilt toward them.

Upon noticing the four strangers in their path, the both of them froze just short of the road like startled deer. The Khajiit shook his head, spraying the Bosmer girl with water.

Forester called out authoritatively. "Hold up, there. We're Fighter's Guild. What's all this about?"

The Khajiit had taken hold of the Bosmer girl by the arm, pulling her down into a crouch beside him, his unloaded bow remained in his other hand. A second bow was slung over his shoulder. He hesitated for a long moment. "Fighters Guild is friend to Imperial soldiers, yes?"

Forester answered. "Yes. That's right."

The Khajiit seemed elated. "This one is very glad. Khajiit and Bosmer very glad. Very glad to find friends of Imperial soldiers."

Monika spoke up. "What's going on?"

The Bosmer girl looked off toward the sounds of battle up the hillside among the trees. She said nothing, appearing quite frightened.

The Khajiit responded, speaking quickly. "Armoured High Elves fighting very angry Imperials near forest camp. Not Imperial soldiers. This one thinks more likely bandit types. Not very friendly. Not like Imperial soldiers. Armoured High Elves even less friendly. Try to kill anyone that sees them. Very likely to kill us all."

Alex interrupted the Khajiit. "Up there." He pointed through the trees up the slope. It was hard to tell from that distance, but he caught a glimpse of some armoured Altmer. He was thinking that the armour looked like the type worn by those foreign Altmer they fought at Wellspring Grove a few months back.

Forester looked to where he indicated. "That certainly looks like trouble." He couldn't quite make out what he was looking at.

Monika had already slung her bow about in preparation, drawing an arrow from her hip-quiver. The Bosmer flinched and crouched lower.

Forester saw two rough-looking men dash past some trees. "Could be some of those outlaws that Elynwen has gone after." He paused, noticing an armoured Altmer through the trees. His tone faltered. "Oh… I think I've seen that before."

"Thalmor agents." Monika spat the words from her mouth.

"Prepare yourselves." Forester made the declaration, glancing at both Alex and Fadren. He drew his sword and addressed the Khajiit. "Can you use that bow?"

"Khajiit thinks running away might be better."

Forester's expression turned bitter, but he didn't verbally respond. He was busy whispering a spell. The Khajiit's eyes widened as he watched the ball of flame appear in Forester's hand. The robed Dark Elf behind him had conjured up some sort of icy mist that wafted between each of his hands. The two Nords held their bows at the ready.

"This one thinks helping Fighter's Guild might be better after all, yes?"

Monika and Alex had already started moving off.

Forester addressed the Khajiit. "Come along, then." He quickly followed Monika and Alex. Fadren moved up beside Forester.

The Khajiit nocked an arrow to his bow as he moved to follow. "Khajiit is skilled with hunting bow, but Bosmer is no fighter."

"I'll try to stay back." The Bosmer girl spoke at last.

All six moved along up the slope through the trees. The Bosmer remained several paces behind the rest of them. The sounds of battle seemed to have faded.

Forester had caught sight of one of the armoured Thalmor. He took him for a mage from his appearance. He took the opportunity to hurl a fireball at the Altmer. His aim was good, but not quite good enough. The fireball sailed past the intended target. It might have been close enough to singe his hair, but that was all. The Thalmor quickly ducked out of sight behind some trees. Another one had dashed after him as Forester was still preparing another fireball.

By the time that the Guild Fighters and company had neared the site of the battle, there was no one left to fight.

They had just caught sight of two Thalmor agents disappearing through the trees up the hill. One of them had a third soldier over his shoulder. It was unclear whether that third one was dead or alive.

"Bastards." Monika wasn't happy about the Thalmor intruder's escape.

"We could still go after them." Alex made the suggestion.

Only because he already held the flames in his hand, Forester unleashed a fireball after them. It was perfectly futile, but it made him feel a little better.

Monika's tone reflected her disappointment. "No. Let them run." She paused to release an arrow aimed high enough to land somewhere in the right direction. "If we pushed things, they'd have the advantage of higher ground and better cover."

Alex appeared confused as he watched her draw another arrow from her quiver.

Monika explained. "Just send a few more things in their direction. Let them think we're actually coming for them."

Forester grinned as he whipped up another fireball to send into the woods. "Perhaps, we'll get lucky and hit one by accident."

Alex followed their actions.

Fadren stood back and conserved his energies. He knew that his frost spells would not even be noticed.

The Khajiit just shook his head. He knew better than to taunt wounded animals.

After just a few short moments, they ceased the wasteful activity. There was no indication that the Thalmor agents were coming back.

A quick examination of the recent battle scene was made. The bodies of four rough-looking men lay sprawled across the muddy ground. Two of the dead had several elven arrows protruding from their bodies. Since arrows like that could be crafted by anyone with the proper skill, it probably hadn't been a concern that they were left behind. From appearances, both of those men did seem as though they had been outlaws. Nothing was found to indicate otherwise and they had no papers. A third body had been badly burned beyond recognition, presumably from lightning magic. The forth had been eviscerated by blade, his guts spilled out upon the sodden ground. Since they appeared to be outlaws, there was little concern over the bodies remaining out there in the wilderness.

Monika had noted the fading light. "We should probably leave before those Thalmor change their minds and come back here. I'd rather not fight them in the dark."

Forester voiced his accord. "Agreed."

Monika turned to face the Khajiit and Bosmer. Neither of them had run off. "Okay, then. Who are you two?"

The small Khajiit seemed to smile in a disarming fashion. "This one is but a simple hunter." Monika's glare encouraged him to elaborate. "Khajiit is called Ras'Dar. Bosmer is called Belwen."

Monika's tone remained suspicious. "What were you doing out here?"

Ras'Dar blinked in confusion. He thought it was perfectly obvious. "Running from armoured High Elves."

Monika sounded like she was losing her patience. "No. Why?"

The Khajiit's ears twitched. "Armoured High Elves kill everyone they see."

Alex interrupted, speaking more calmly. "Why were they after you?"

The Khajiit looked to Alex. "Ras'Dar saw High Elves kill Imperial soldiers and caravan traders. High Elves all through the forest." He pointed back toward the southern hills.

Alex asked another question. "Is that where you came from? Up there?"

"From Elsweyr?" Monika prompted.

Ras'Dar glanced between the two of them, nodding slightly. "Forests of Elsweyr."

Alex seemed concerned. "That cannot be good. The Thalmor should not be in Elsweyr, should they?"

Monika's expression was grim. "No. They shouldn't. Shouldn't be in Cyrodiil either."

Ras'Dar was shaking his head. "Not good at all."

Forester weighed in. "Look, perhaps you should come back with us to Skingrad. It would certainly be much safer."

Ras'Dar looked to Belwen.

Belwen shrugged. "Any place is better than…"

"Ras'Dar will come along with Belwen."

Monika's tone indicated a sense of urgency. "Come on. Let's get moving and head back down to the road. We can talk along the way."

As Monika's insistence, they started moving off back toward the road.

Fadren had remained quiet. He was fairly certain that the Khajiit and Bosmer were the ones that he saw running through a forest in his vision. The only piece of the puzzle that remained to be seen was the object that he sought.

The Dunmer listened to the others as they walked. The Guild Fighters had expressed their concerns over Thalmor agents intruding upon Cyrodiil. They were also concerned that they were intruding upon Elsweyr. From the way they spoke, it seemed that they knew more than they were saying aloud. They had spoken of making certain that the right people were informed of what they had learned. He had heard the Khajiit speaking of how he had never been to Cyrodiil before, but he knew many Imperial soldiers. He had indicated that he often worked with Legion soldiers, serving as a guide and translator. The Bosmer had revealed that she had run away from a life of servitude in a city called Arenthia in the north of Valenwood.

In the fading light, the shadow of the Silorn ruins soon came into view ahead.

Alex had been speaking with the Khajiit and Bosmer. The tone of his questions seemed less like an interrogation. He directed another question toward Belwen. "What is that box you are holding?"

Fadren suddenly considered the book-sized box that the Bosmer had been clutching under her arm. He wondered if it could be that simple.

Belwen had answered. "I took it from my master… when I escaped… from the city. It made it a little easier. I… I was claiming to make a delivery for him." She sounded frightened, but she also sounded like she was hiding something.

Alex sounded interested. "Is there something inside?"

Belwen nodded. After a pause, she reluctantly took the box from beneath her arm. "I'm not even sure why I kept it." She lifted the lid of the box.

Alex saw a star shaped object inside the box. "What is it?"

Belwen answered. "I don't really know what it is. I thought it might be of some value."

Ras'Dar glanced at it. He had glimpsed it before. He didn't know what it was.

Fadren had tried to get close enough to see, but the Khajiit was in his way.

Forester turned and peered into the box. His eyes narrowed. "Wait a moment." He halted the group on the road.

Monika stopped and turned, annoyed that they were not moving.

Forester commented further. "I think I know what that might be. I'm almost certain that I've seen images of a Daedric totem that looks like that."

"Daedric?" Belwen dropped the box. The star shaped object fell upon the ground.

Fadren tensed as the star fell just a pace from his feet.

Alex quickly bent down and reached to pick it up,

"I don't think you should…" Forester never completed what he was saying.

As Alex touched the star, he let out an incoherent shout of pain. A bright light flashed like lightning. It might have come from the star. The noise seemed only to come from Alex. A great burst of concussive force exploded outward, striking all within the immediate area. Each of the six of them had been flung outward from the force.

Alex might have been the last one to lose consciousness. Lying upon his back on the ground, he tried to move, managing only to move his head slightly. He could see Monika lying not far from him. He couldn't see anyone else. He remained unable to move any useful part of his body. His mouth moved, but no sound came. His eyes rolled back as everything slipped away to darkness.

~O~


	23. Chapter 23

Evening Star

Greg J Miller

~O~

Chapter 23

Sundas the 29th of Frostfall 4E48 Evening

As far as he could tell, it seemed completely dark. Alex could hear noises, but they seemed far off. A louder whooshing sound filled his ears. He realised that his eyes were still closed. He felt familiar hands upon his face as his eyes fluttered open. It was night, but not quite as dark as he had thought. A shadow loomed over him. Although he couldn't clearly see, he knew that it was Monika. She had been softly calling his name.

Alex was feeling cold and damp. He realised that he must still be lying upon the ground near the West Weald Track. He was just slightly propped up by the bulk of his pack. He tried to speak. "How…long?"

Monika's voice answered. "Dunno. Maybe an hour? Maybe more."

Alex groaned mildly as he shifted his legs.

Monika spoke again. "How badly are you hurt?"

After a pause, Alex responded. "I feel sore… but I don't think anything is broken."

Monika had brought a vial up to Alex's lips. "Drink this. It's a healing potion."

Alex drank down the vile tasting liquid. Off to one side of Monika, he could see Forester moving toward him with a ball of light in his hand. That was part of the reason it was not completely dark. Two shadowy figures moved behind him. One of them was shaped like the Khajiit they encountered earlier. He could only tell by the shadow of the feline ears.

With just a little effort, Alex managed to sit up. The dull aching of his back muscles seemed more of a discomfort, nothing too serious. "What happened?"

Forester responded. "When you touched that object, some sort of magical burst was released. I would have thought that you had…"

Monika interrupted. "He hasn't been able to do that since… not since the island." She made a gesture indicating the Bosmer and Khajiit.

Forester's interest was raised by that revelation, but he understood the inference. It was not a topic for discussion in front of the two strangers.

Alex was feeling responsible for the current circumstances. "Is everyone okay?"

Forester answered first. "For the most part, I should think. It seems that you might have taken the worst of it."

Alex felt a little better about that, but no less annoyed with himself. "Okay… good." Looking about, he noticed that he couldn't see Forester's Dunmer friend. "Where is… Fadren?"

Monika's tone reflected her annoyance. "Fadren's gone. He took that artefact."

Alex looked about to each of the others. "I do not understand."

Forester spoke with a measure of frustration. "Nor do I. I had thought that Fadren could be trusted. I had even invited him into my house."

Monika had glared at Forester. "You were wrong about him."

Forester offered no defence.

Alex slowly stood up. He could feel that the spells and potions had made a positive difference. The worst of his aches were quickly fading. "Should we go after him?"

Monika shook her head. "We'd never find him in the dark. We don't even know which way he went."

The Khajiit interrupted. "This one can see." He pointed toward the northern side of the track. The moons were struggling to break through the clouds of the eastern sky, providing only a little light.

Forester lifted his ball of light a little higher and peered at what the Khajiit was indicating. Some muddy tracks led away from the road. "I'm not confident that I could follow those tracks very far." His tone reflected his doubt. "Especially not at night."

"Ras'Dar can track Dunmer. This one is skilled with such things."

Forester looked back at the Khajiit. "Are you certain?"

Ras'Dar nodded with a seemingly enthusiastic expression.

Monika interrupted. "Canne is probably expecting us to report back."

Forester didn't sound too concerned. "We could easily have been away another day or two if we needed to investigate that second location."

Monika seemed swayed. "I suppose. The important part of the job is done."

Forester maintained a confident tone. "I can smooth things with Canne."

After a pause, Monika slowly nodded with the appearance of some reservation. "I suppose we could try to go after him."

Alex had been looking at the tracks by the road. He addressed Ras'Dar. "Are you sure you can follow those tracks?"

The Khajiit offered a toothy grin. "Ras'Dar is not perfect, but Dunmer does not seem skilled at hiding tracks."

Forester spoke up. "I would expect that he already has a fair lead. If we're going to do this, we should probably get moving."

"Is everyone good to travel?" Monika had glanced at Alex with a measure of concern.

Alex responded. "I will be okay."

Monika's glance seemed to linger upon Alex. In response, Alex assumed a confident stance and expression.

Ras'Dar had turned to the Bosmer. "Belwen will come along, yes?"

Belwen shrugged. "I have nowhere else to go."

Forester spoke with some tentative authority. "Well, then. We should be off on our way. Ras'Dar at the front, of course."

"Just a moment." Monika had rummaged in the side of her pack. After unwrapping a short length of wood that she retrieved, she dripped some oil from a vial onto it. "Here. Use this." She handed the torch to Forester.

Forester ignited the torch and took up position behind the Khajiit. "Very well. Let's be on our way."

With Ras'Dar at the lead, the group of five set off in a generally northern direction, following the trail that the Dunmer had left in his wake. Those tracks were not so difficult for the Khajiit to follow. His own night vision might have been enough. With Forester holding the torch behind him, it was even easier. The ground was still wet from the afternoon storms and the Dunmer's boots left a fairly clear trail.

Before long, their march had led them uphill toward the area that the Guild Fighters had passed through earlier in the day. The shadows of the rocky outcrops about Howling Cave came into view.

Monika spoke quietly, but loud enough for Ras'Dar to hear. "Did he go over to those rocks? There's an old mine over there. We were there earlier."

After a pause, the Khajiit responded. "This one can see some tracks leading over there, but lone Dunmer went this way after rains." He indicated a path that skirted to the west of the rocky outcrop.

Ras'Dar led the group in the direction that he specified.

Alex spoke quietly to Monika. "That star shaped object… do you think that it is what that Synod contract is about?"

Monika kept her eyes forward. "Maybe."

Forester had heard. He voiced his opinion. "I would think there's a good chance of that." He paused briefly. "I'm not perfectly certain, but I think it might be Azura's Star."

"Azura's Star?" Alex had repeated the name with some curiosity.

Forester elaborated. "It's a powerful totem of the Daedric Prince Azura. From what I understand, it's supposed to be something like a reusable soul gem of almost unlimited capacity." He paused briefly. "Azura's Star has passed through the hands of various people over the years. I don't recall all the details, of course. From what I've heard, the last time it surfaced, it fell into the hands of the Champion of Cyrodiil. Some say that it was given to Martin Septim and consumed in a ritual during the Oblivion Crisis. Some say that it remained in the hands of the Champion. I couldn't say which was true."

Alex was trying to understand. "So… that star object can absorb soul energy?"

Forester responded. "Among other things. I can't say that I know what else it might be capable of."

Alex sounded concerned. "Does that mean that I might have...?"

Forester tried to sound reassuring. "I shouldn't think that it could have done anything like that to you. After all, you're still alive." He paused before adding another thought. "I'd more likely expect it had something to do with… with that other thing you have."

Alex's response was a little evasive. "But I do not have that any more. Not since I was… uh… poisoned…"

Forester turned briefly to look at Alex. His expression indicated his confusion.

Monika spoke up. "Alex was affected by some sort of elven magic. Back on the island. When he broke that… the Ayleid artefact."

Ras'Dar didn't know what the others were talking about, but the light from Forester's torch had faded. He turned to observe that the group had fallen behind. "Still following Dunmer, yes?"

"Yes. Of course." Forester adjusted his pace to move up behind the Khajiit. He continued to think about what had occurred when Alex had touched the star shaped artefact.

The group continued onward more quietly for a while. The clouded skies had begun to clear somewhat, allowing the glow of moonlight to provide for better visibility. The countryside was only sparsely wooded. There were just a few small copses of trees here and there. Before long, the trail that Ras'Dar followed had veered slightly eastward. It seemed evident that the Dunmer had not returned to Skingrad. At least, that was clear to some of them. Of course, Ras'Dar had little idea of where he was or where he was leading them. He was just following the trail left behind by Fadren. The uphill direction of their path had soon started to give way to a downhill direction.

A little further along, Ras'Dar had slowed and came to a halt. He signalled for the others to stop. His ears twitched as he looked toward a couple of large trees. There were a few shadowed boulders about the trees. A low growling was heard coming from the trees. It was loud enough for all of them to hear. One of the shadows moved, revealing itself to be a large bear. It was reasonable to expect that it had either heard their approach or had caught their scent. Ras'Dar was preparing his bow. Alex and Monika were doing the same. Forester had acted first. He drew up a fireball and released it toward the bear. The fire skidded along the ground at the bear's feet, singeing its fur. The startled bear turned tail and trotted off down the hillside away from them. The archers remained alert. However, it seemed that Forester had successfully scared it off with the flames.

The shadows of a larger structure soon came into view along the path that the Khajiit had been following. It looked like the ruins of an old Imperial fort.

Forester had identified it as the ruins of Fort Vlastarus. He had mentioned that Canne had informed him that Elynwen had recently checked the place for outlaws. It was supposed to be currently unoccupied. Monika had agreed that she had been told the same thing.

In any case, the fort was of no immediate concern. Ras'Dar had indicated that the trail he was following veered off clear of that place. He continued to lead the group in a generally northern direction across the countryside.

Before too long, they had reached the main road. Ras'Dar had paused at the edge of the road and looked back at the others with some uncertainty.

Monika spoke. "This should be The Gold Road."

"Gold Road?" Ras'Dar repeated, with a measure of confused curiosity.

Forester clarified. "To the west, it eventually leads to The Gold Coast and the city of Anvil. Skingrad and Kvatch are located along the way. The Imperial City is to the east."

Ras'Dar had been only half listening. He had returned his attention toward the road, examining the ground for signs of the tracks he had been following. Fortunately, the effects of the earlier rain had left the road a little muddy.

Alex knew that they had reached The Gold Road, but he didn't quite recognise the location. "Do we know where we are?"

Forester seemed to know. "There should be a couple of sealed caverns along this stretch." He paused to look each way. "Actually, I think we are between the two of them. The Greenmead Caverns should be just around that next bend in the road."

Ras'Dar commented upon what he could see. "This one can tell that horses passed since rain." He paused as he made further examination. "Horses passed in both directions. Only one person on foot. Dunmer followed road eastward."

Monika spoke again. "Are you sure?"

"Ras'Dar is very sure. Dunmer is easy to follow."

Forester seemed satisfied. "Very good, then. We should keep going."

No one disagreed. Still following Ras'Dar, the group continued along the road headed eastward. After almost an hour, Forester had called a pause. Upon that occasion, there wasn't any trouble. He just needed to step off the road to go behind the bushes.

Monika's voice reflected her weariness. "We should stop for a little while."

Forester had called back from behind the short bush. "That's not necessary. I'll only be a moment."

Monika responded. "No. We're all tired. We could all use a break." She stepped toward a fallen log by the roadside. "Just a quarter-hour or so."

After a pause, Forester agreed. "Very well."

No one else had voiced an opinion. Ras'Dar had walked back toward Monika as she unburdened herself of her backpack and sat down upon the log. The log was still a little damp, but she didn't care. Alex did the same and sat beside her. Belwen sat quietly next to Alex. The Khajiit had settled upon the log near Monika. He leaned upon his hunting bow for support. By the time that Forester returned, there was no more room along the length of the log. He squatted down and sat upon a small rock near where Belwen had sat.

Trying to gauge the position of the moons through the broken clouds, Alex passed a comment. "It must be almost midnight."

Monika was rummaging in her pack. "Yeah. Probably." She took a drink from her water-skin and offered it to Ras'Dar.

The Khajiit shook his head, producing his own water flask.

Alex had found his own water flask and offered it to Belwen. She seemed quite thirsty. He also found some food in his pack. He took some cheese for himself and passed some to the Bosmer. She was obviously very hungry.

Forester attended to his own requirements. He seemed lost in thought.

Ras'Dar had humbly accepted some food from Monika. He had nothing left of his own rations.

Alex had been thinking. "Forester, I have been thinking about Fadren." He paused to see if he had his attention. "Do you think that he might be from the Synod?"

Forester hesitated only slightly. "No. At least, I don't think so. His spells didn't seem like Synod… Whatever lies he might have told, I do believe that he's from the north."

Alex continued. "It seems an odd coincidence." He paused before elaborating. "We were not looking that artefact. It seemed only chance that we met with Belwen and that she was carrying it. Fadren had found a way a gain your trust and join us just in time to find that artefact and run away with it."

Monika voiced her own opinion. "I didn't trust him from the start."

Forester didn't respond. He was still silently stewing over his having misjudged the Dunmer so completely.

Ras'Dar had quietly risen and ducked behind the bushes to relieve himself. Alex had quickly decided to do the same.

Forester spoke again. "Belwen, what can you tell me about that object you were carrying?"

Despite his friendly tone, Belwen seemed intimidated. "I… I don't know. Not all that much. Not really."

Forester prompted her. "You said that you took it from someone."

Belwen nodded. "From my master. Volundare. He was a captain of the guard in Arenthia. One of the Altmer from Alinor."

Forester continued. "I see. Do you have any idea how he came to have that star shaped object, or what he was doing with it?"

Belwen looked down. "It only came to him a few weeks ago. I'm not sure, but I think it might have come from his brother. He often sent him things… things like that."

Forester waited for her to continue.

Belwen fidgeted with a tear in her dress. "Volundare had been performing strange rituals. I'm fairly sure it was all about that old star."

Ras'Dar and Alex had returned and settled back into their former positions.

"Go on." Forester again pressed her to continue.

Belwen hesitated. "On that last day… my last day in Arenthia… Volundare had called me into his room. He… he was doing something… something with that star. He was burning candles and strange powders. There were strange magical symbols everywhere. He… he had a dagger." She trembled. It had nothing to do with the cool evening air.

Forester tried to maintain a sense of calm in his voice. "What happened?"

Belwen looked up at Forester. The moisture in her eyes glistened in the torchlight. A tear streamed down her cheek. "I… I was frightened. He… he… he… I thought he was going to kill me." She was almost sobbing. "I hit him with it."

"With the star?" Forester queried.

Belwen managed to answer. "Yes. He's dead." She coughed weakly. "I'd be dead too… if… if I hadn't run away."

Alex offered his water to Belwen. She took a few short sips.

A brief silence passed.

Monika spoke. "I'm guessing that's why those Thalmor soldiers were there."

Ras'Dar spoke up. "Bosmer only part of reason. Khajiit also chased by armoured High Elves. Ras'Dar saw High Elves kill Imperial soldiers and caravan traders along road from Dune. High Elves all through the forest in Elsweyr. This one thinks High Elves hold bigger plans than chasing stray Bosmer and Khajiit."

Monika agreed. "I think you might be right."

Alex weighed in. "We will need to tell someone."

"Yeah, we'll do that," Monika asserted. "After we find Fadren." She grabbed her pack and stood up.

Forester slowly rose. "I have a thought."

"About what?" Monika asked the question.

Alex helped Belwen up. Ras'Dar was already up and looking down the road.

Forester continued. "Well, I can't really say that I know how it might work… Azura's Star, of course. Still, I can't help but think that…" He paused to order his thoughts. "If that… Volundare was killed with the star, then it stands to reason that the artefact may have been affected by his life energy. Perhaps, even more so if he had been performing some sort of magical rituals. If Alex had been previously affected by other ancient elven magic…"

Alex was trying to follow. "What do you mean?"

Forester shook his head. "I'm not exactly sure. I suspect that the magical burst we experienced was some sort of clash of energies."

Ras'Dar interrupted. "Someone approaches."

They all looked toward where the Khajiit was looking. A rider was slowly approaching along the road from the east. The flame from a torch bobbed with the slow steady motion of the horse. Ras'Dar was visibly apprehensive. Only a few tense moments passed before it became obvious that there was no danger.

"Imperial Patrol." Monika voiced her assessment.

The Imperial rider was a typically nondescript soldier in his forties. He paused to greet the group with a measure of suspicion in his voice. He kept one hand upon the hilt of sword as he spoke. His tone shifted notably once Monika had identified that they were Fighter's Guild. He had mildly grumbled about being on evening patrol. In response to Monika's question, the soldier had indicated that he had seen a robed Dunmer on the road just a couple of hours earlier. According to the soldier, the Dunmer had told him that he was on his way to the city for Emperor's Day. He commented that he hadn't given it much thought. He asked whether the Dunmer was some sort of trouble. Monika had advised the soldier that it was about a Fighter's Guild contract and that the matter was in hand. The soldier seemed happy enough to leave it at that. He just wished them luck and continued on his way.

Forester moved up beside Ras'Dar with the torch. "Well, at least we know he's still following the road."

Monika nodded wearily. "Yeah. We should keep moving."

The group of five prepared to head off down the road toward the city.

~O~


	24. Chapter 24

Evening Star

Greg J Miller

~O~

Chapter 24

Morndas the 30th of Frostfall 4E48

It was just after midnight. After the short break and the brief encounter with the Imperial rider, the group resumed their eastward journey. Again, Ras'Dar took the lead, carefully watching for signs of the Dunmer's boot prints along the road. Forester kept just behind the Khajiit, providing torchlight. Monika, Alex and Belwen trailed along behind.

Realistically, Ras'Dar didn't need to pay quite so much attention to the tracks. They already knew that Fadren had continued along that road. The Imperial soldier had already confirmed that much. Still, the Khajiit wanted to be sure that he would recognise the trail if it left the road at some point further along.

They continued to trudge along The Gold Road through the early hours of the morning. It might have been more to their advantage if they had moved far more quickly, but none of them really had the energy for that.

The last stretch of that road had been taking them through the southern part of The Great Forest. Various noises from the forest had caused alarm upon occasion, but nothing dangerous had come forth to cross their path. Only one thing had briefly disturbed their march along the road. Another Imperial rider had startled them. The soldier came along from behind, headed in the same direction. It wasn't the usual slow moving patrol. That rider had been moving at a faster gallop, hardly even slowing to avoid them. Monika had suggested it was probably a Legion courier. Aside from that rider, the hours had passed without notable event.

The dim light of dawn was evident by the time that they finally reached the first intersection with The Red Ring Road, indicating that they had reached the outskirts of the central Imperial region. The skies had almost cleared behind them to the west. Some broken cloud cover still marred the eastern skies, obscuring the rise of the sun over the far away Valus Mountains. The sounds of morning birds had started to ring out from the forest.

Two signposts stood by the roadside where The Gold Road ended. A crow had perched itself upon a signpost. It flew off as they neared. That first signpost marked pointers to each of the major city locations in each direction. The second posting only pointed directly toward the Imperial City.

Ras'Dar had fussed briefly over the mixed up mess of tracks upon the road, before deciding that the Dunmer had definitely taken that first turn along The Red Ring Road toward the city. He no longer needed to rely upon torchlight to examine the trail, but it was becoming more difficult to make out as time passed.

They turned left onto that outer branch of the road. That path headed up the hill and followed the ridge northward. There was a lower branch of the same road running parallel just below the hillside. Those two branches joined up again at points just outside the village of Weye. Nevertheless, Fadren had taken the higher road, so that's the one they would follow.

Once they had crested the first rise, the White-Gold Tower of the city suddenly came into view over the trees below the road.

Belwen had gasped. "Oh, my…"

Alex looked back with a chuckle. "That is what I thought, the first time I saw it."

Ras'Dar had been too busy looking at the road to have noticed.

Belwen found her voice, after a fashion. "I… I've never seen… It must be huge."

"It is the tallest building that I have ever seen." Alex still sounded impressed.

Belwen remained almost speechless. "It… it must be… very tall."

Ras'Dar had been distracted enough to look up from the road to see what the fuss was about. He stopped and stared at the huge tower. Forester stopped just short of bumping into the Khajiit.

Ras'Dar didn't have anything to say. After a lengthy pause, he shook his head and returned his focus to the road. He started moving again with the others following behind.

They soon passed the trees that obscured a clear view of the Imperial City. Below the tall tower, the rest of the city spread about below. Belwen could then see that the city was mostly situated upon a high hill and seemingly surrounded by water. The main part of the city appeared to be circular. A tall wall of pale stone seemed to enclose the city. There were two smaller towers that also rose from the city, one toward the eastern side and another over the far side from their approach. She could also see a tall stone wall down by the waters south of the city. There were several wooden structures in the shadow of that wall. She could see two large ships that were anchored just offshore from that area. Further around the island to the west, a large stone bridge crossed over the water to the city. That bridge featured towering supports that seemed at least as tall as the city walls.

Belwen found it difficult to estimate the size of the city. "It must be many times the size of Arenthia."

Alex returned a remark. "I do not know the size of Arenthia, but it is the largest city that I have ever seen."

Belwen was trying to consider how many people might fit in such a large city. "There must be a lot of people there."

Monika passed comment. "There'll be a lot more people there today." She was making a reference to the festivities of Emperor's Day.

Reinforcing Monika's suggestion, two wagons were passing along the lower stretch of the road toward the city. Both looked like farmer's wagons. However, they were not laden with produce. Each wagon carried several people.

Ras'Dar was only vaguely listening to the conversation behind. His attention remained more focussed upon the jumble of tracks on the rough road. It had become rather more difficult to clearly sort the Dunmer's boot prints from all those other tracks.

"Another patrol." Forester had murmured.

Ras'Dar looked up to see the Imperial rider up ahead. The lone soldier was ambling toward them along the road. He was just coming across an old wooden bridge that crossed a narrow ravine.

A brief exchange passed between Forester and the soldier. In response to Forester's question, the rider had advised that he'd spotted a robed figure heading for the city a couple of hours earlier. He couldn't say if it was a Dunmer. He hadn't been that close and it was still fairly dark at the time. He'd only noticed that the figure looked to be heading into the main street of Weye. Forester had thanked the Legion rider for his assistance. The soldier continued on his way and the group continued onward.

The better part of two hours had passed by since they had left The Gold Road behind. They trudged down the main road through the middle of Weye. The small farms about the outskirts of the village had been conspicuously absent of activity. Just one Legion horse occupied the small stabling facility in the main street. The only obvious activity of the village that morning was the traffic passing through toward the bridge that crossed to the city. Another wagon loaded with passengers had passed by. That one came from the north. The group had needed to step aside as a pair of riders had dashed by, slowing their mounts only slightly as they passed. Up ahead, a few people crossed the bridge on foot headed for the city gates.

Ras'Dar had all but given up on the task of trying to sort the tracks. That road was partially lined with stones and was no where near as wet as it had been during the previous evening. No one really expected that he would be able to tell anything by that stage.

Monika had spoken up. Her voice reflected her weariness. "We should stop at the inn." She was indicating the Wawnet Inn, just ahead on the left.

Forester turned to her. A question indicated in his expression.

Monika explained her thoughts. "If he's gone into the city, then the chances are he's still there. If he's gone somewhere specific, then he's probably already there by now. Besides, we really need to rest."

Forester nodded. "Yes, I expect you're right. It will be certainly be more difficult to find him in the city." He paused. "And we do need a rest."

Monika took the lead, headed directly for the inn.

* * *

Pushing open the old wooden door to the Wawnett Inn, Monika stepped inside. The others filed in behind her. She led the group along the short corridor, turning right toward the tavern area of the inn. As always, most of the tavern remained dimly lit away from the main service bar. There was just the one patron in the tavern area. A weary Legion soldier sat at a table with a mug and an empty bowl. His helmet sat upon the table.

As Monika came around into the tavern, she was somewhat surprised to see the old fisherman's wife leaning behind the bar. "Oh, uh… Flaenia. Hello. Where's uh… Fortis?" She was referring to the new lad that Nerussa had recently hired, Fortis Kvinchal.

"Fortis?" The old Imperial woman shook her head. "He's gone."

"Gone?" Monika's tone indicated her confusion.

A frail voice called out from the back area. "Flaenia?"

"Yes, Nerussa?" Flaenia sung out.

"Is that Monika?" The voice sounded a little closer.

"Yes, Nerussa." Flaenia sung out again.

The elderly Altmer woman had just started to emerge from the passage at the rear of the tavern. Her hands reached out, finding the end of the bar. She made her way slowly along the front of the service bar toward Monika. Alex and Forester stepped to one side to allow a clear path. Belwen looked on with some curiosity. She had never before seen an Altmer that seemed so old and frail. Ras'Dar looked around the tavern, appearing a little nervous.

"Hello, Nerussa." Monika indicated her location.

Nerussa reached out and took Monika's arm, leaning in close to peer through her failing eyes. "Monika. Are you well? You sound tired."

Monika cleared her throat. "I'm fine. It's just been a long night."

Nerussa reached out with her other hand, finding another body off to her left. "Alex is still with you?"

Alex spoke up. "Yes, Nerussa. I am here."

Nerussa's firm grip found Alex's arm. "Good, good." She sensed another figure standing next to him. Releasing her grasp upon both Monika and Alex, she shuffled up to Forester and leaned in close. "I've seen you before, haven't I?"

Forester leaned back a little. "Yes, uh… Nerussa. About a month back."

Nerussa continued. "You're with the Fighter's Guild. Forester, isn't it?"

"That's right." Forester was a little impressed that the elderly Altmer remembered.

Nerussa nodded curtly and turned back to Monika.

Monika spoke. "What happened with Fortis?"

Nerussa made some tutting noises as she shook her head. "That boy didn't work out like I thought. He's been gone a couple of days. Gone back to the docks." She tilted her head toward the bar. "Flaenia has been kind enough to fill in again."

"He only started a couple of weeks ago." Monika passed the comment dryly.

"Doesn't matter. He's gone." Nerussa settled the topic. She opened her mouth, then paused as she sensed the two smaller shadows just behind Monika. "Is there someone else with you?"

"Yeah." Monika confirmed. "A Bosmer and a Khajiit. We uh… rescued them from some trouble in The West Weald."

"Trouble?" Nerussa repeated that part as a question.

Monika responded vaguely. "It's a bit complicated." She paused. "We're on the trail of a robed Dunmer."

"A robed Dunmer?" Nerussa shook her head, turning toward Flaenia.

"Not since I got in." Flaenia advised.

The Legion rider had risen from his seat. He seemed to be ready to leave. He brought his empty bowl and mug to the bar. "A robed Dunmer?"

Monika turned to face the soldier. "Yeah. Have you seen him?"

"I saw a Dunmer headed for the city about an hour before I took my break. He was dressed in robes. Looked like he had a dark beard."

Forester interjected. "That sounds like him. Are you sure he was headed for the city?"

The soldier squinted in thought. "Looked like it. I just figured he was headed there for the festival. Didn't give it any thought." He paused for a breath. "This Dunmer some sort of trouble?"

"He's taken something…" Forester paused. "It's Fighter's Guild business."

"Right then." The soldier wasn't interested in pursuing it further. "Good luck to you. I need to get back on the job." With a short nod, he turned and made his way out of the tavern.

Nerussa spoke again. "All of you sound tired. Will you be staying here?"

Monika sighed. "We need to stop for a rest, but we can't stay long."

Nerussa allowed a short moment to pass. "You should at least stop and have something to eat."

Monika sighed again. "Yeah, we should," she paused wearily, "And maybe just a short rest."

Nerussa turned toward Flaenia.

The old Imperial woman had already anticipated the question. "I've got a clam broth in the pot."

"That sounds fine." Monika offered a mild smile in Flaenia's direction.

Flaenia returned a friendly smile and started set herself to task.

Monika released another tired sigh. "We should go get cleaned up first." She looked to Belwen. Taking her by the hand, she led the Bosmer girl to the bathrooms through the doorway in the northern wall.

Alex had turned to Ras'Dar. The Khajiit didn't seem so interested in cleaning, but did need to use the other facilities. The three males each took turns with the second bathroom before returning to the tavern.

By the time that Monika and Belwen had finally returned, bowls of Flaenia's broth had been set out upon a table. Belwen's dishevelled dress had been discarded. She was wearing one of Monika's light dresses. It seemed a little large on her smaller frame, but it was clean.

After a short while, Alex sat eying the empty bowl in front of him, rubbing the stubble upon his face. He was idly thinking that he needed a shave, but there was no time for that at that moment. He was also thinking that a nap would be most welcome, but there was no time for that either.

As usual, Forester was taking much longer to eat his food than anyone else. Upon that occasion, he had paused several times to ask questions of Ras'Dar and Belwen.

Forester had tried to learn if the Bosmer girl could provide any further insight into that Daedric artefact that she had been carrying. For the most part, she had already revealed everything that she knew.

Forester had also tried to press the Khajiit for anything else that he might know about the Thalmor soldiers intruding upon the regions of Elsweyr and beyond. Aside from just a few details, he had also already provided most of what he actually knew or suspected.

Both Ras'Dar and Belwen had agreed to remain with the three Guild Fighters for the time being. Forester had wanted them to come along when they delivered that information to the appropriate persons. Belwen had no where else to go and seemed rather indifferent. Ras'Dar was a little harder to read, but he did appear interested in learning how the Imperials might respond to Altmer soldiers intruding upon both Elsweyr and Cyrodiil. More than that, he was hoping for the opportunity to have that information delivered to his own people back in Elsweyr.

Monika had finished her broth during that discussion and got up to go speak with Nerussa. The elderly Altmer had returned to the back area down behind the service bar. As was often the case, Monika had remained rather sparing of detail with what she told Nerussa. She had mentioned that the Dunmer they were following might have the Daedric artefact that everyone had been looking for. She had assured Nerussa that she hadn't been actually looking for that thing. The whole circumstance seemed accidental. The second thing of concern had been that the Daedric artefact had been in Valenwood for the past few weeks and only just returned through unusual happenstance. The girl that carried it didn't even know what it was, but soldiers from Alinor had pursued her through Elsweyr into Cyrodiil. Nerussa was suitably alarmed at the notion of such an incursion into Imperial territories. She had advised Monika to make sure that the proper authorities were informed. Monika had assured that she already intended to do so. Of course, Monika had not before revealed any detail of her previous two encounters with Thalmor agents about fours months earlier. The details of those missions for the Penitus Oculatus needed to remain secret.

Nerussa had responded to Monika's weary voice. "You really should be resting."

Monika sighed. "Yeah, but I can't. Not just yet." She sighed again. "We need to get going. We're headed for the city. Depending on what happens, we might be back here by the evening. Can't say for sure."

Nerussa made a tutting sound. "Your room will be ready for you if you need it. We should have room for the others as well."

Monika offered her acceptance and made her farewells, before heading back into the tavern area. The others looked just like Monika felt. Everyone looked like they needed more rest, but it was already headed for mid-morning and they needed to be on their way. At Monika's urging, they all gathered up their gear and prepared to head out.

* * *

The group departed the Wawnet Inn and headed along the street toward the large stone bridge crossing over the narrows of Lake Rumare to the City Isle. The earlier signs of traffic appeared to have eased. Only two people were headed up the hill toward the gates. It was reasonable to assume that everyone headed for the city was already there by that time.

Forester and Monika marched at the front. Alex lagged just behind, listening to Belwen and Ras'Dar at his back.

"Belwen should keep up." The Khajiit tried to hurry her. She was falling behind as she gawked up at the towering supports of the stone bridge.

"There is nothing in Arenthia like that. Not even the tallest of trees reach so high."

Ras'Dar scoffed. "Bridge is still a bridge. Even if very tall. City of Riverhold covers very tall hillside. Bottom of Riverhold to very top is least as high. Maybe higher."

Belwen couldn't really picture what Ras'Dar meant. She remained in awe of the amount of stone that made up that bridge. Looking ahead, she was again thinking of the great city of stone that loomed large across the hill above. Growing up in Arenthia, she hadn't actually thought of that place as the Imperial City. The Altmer from Alinor had often insisted upon referring to it as the City of the Temple of the Ancestors. Some just called it the occupied city. It had never crossed her mind that she might ever see the place with her own eyes. Ras'Dar had been talking, but she hadn't really heard what he was saying.

"Walls around Dune stand just as tall. Ras'Dar did mention birthplace of Dune, yes?"

Belwen stared at the Khajiit blankly. "Uh… I don't think so." She looked away toward the city ahead.

Ras'Dar recognised the vague tone of her response and let the matter drop.

After having crossed the bridge, they made their way up the steep road toward the main gates to the Imperial City. The stabling facilities below the city walls looked completely full and then some. All the yards were packed with horses. Several more were actually left outside the fences. More than a dozen wagons were left over the other side of the road scattered in a haphazard fashion by the stone wall.

Forester had noticed the old man sitting out the front of the stables on the porch with his pipe. That was the only sign of normalcy.

The two guards at the city gates were chatting as the group approached. One of them seemed to recognise Forester. After verbally confirming that he was Fighter's Guild and that the others were with him, he just waved them through without any further interest.

* * *

Entering the Talos Plaza District of the Imperial City, some impression of the busy activity of the place was immediately evident. The greater concentration of people appeared about the central Talos Plaza. Still, it was only slightly more crowded than any other day. It seemed that some were coming back from the direction of the Temple District, and some others from the northern districts. However, there was something of a general tidal movement that appeared headed for the central district of the city, The Green Emperor Way. Several of the festivities of Emperor's Day would be taking place in that area.

The group had paused just outside of the circular area of the Talos Plaza in the street that followed the curvature of the main city wall. That area nearest to the city gates seemed the least crowded space.

Belwen remained quiet as she gazed at the broad mix of people that filled the space ahead. Her attention was drawn toward the statue of a dragon in the centre of the circular plaza area. She assumed that it was probably a representation of Akatosh, the chief deity of the Nine Divines. The statue towered a little above the crowds. Aside from the strange mix of different races, she thought it looked a bit like a busy day in the markets of Arenthia. She had imagined that the city would be chiefly dominated by Imperials and probably some mix of Nords and Bretons. She wasn't that surprised to spot a few of the darker skinned Redguards. Still, there seemed just as many of the other races in the crowd. She could see Altmer, Dunmer and Orsimer, and a few of her own people. She also noted a few Khajiit and just a couple of Argonians.

Ras'Dar also remained quiet as he took in his surroundings. In some manner, he was reminded a little of Dune. At least in as much as Dune was also a city of stone with great walls, both within and without. Though the city of the Imperials looked like a very different city and there were not that many Khajiit about. Of course, it was nothing at all like the hillside city of Riverhold. Riverhold was rather more vertical and it seemed that more of it was constructed from timber than stone.

Attention was momentarily drawn away from the noise of the crowds ahead. A group of children were shouting as they dashed by along the outer street behind them. Aside from one Argonian youngling, the rest were all lighter skinned human children. They were running in the general direction of the Temple District.

Alex had spoken up. "What should we do?"

Monika responded. "Fadren would have come through here. We might as well start with this district. See if anyone has seen him or knows anything."

Forester glanced about the crowds. "It's not going to be an easy matter. Not on a day like this."

Alex had a suggestion. "Is it possible that he went to the Arcane University? To the Synod?"

Forester shook his head. "I couldn't be certain, but I don't think so. He did seem to be rather ignorant of the Synod and of much of Cyrodiil." After a pause, he looked away. "Of course, much of that could have also have been lies."

Monika had suggested that they split up. She had commented that there was no point in checking the Tiber Septim Hotel. Forester had agreed. She intended to take Alex and Belwen and check the other two taverns and northern streets of the district.

Forester and Ras'Dar would try to cover the rest of the streets of the district. As Forester had suggested, he expected that the beggars would be the most likely source of useful information. After all, the city's beggars generally tended to be far more observant than the guards of the city.

They had agreed to meet back at that same place on eastern side of plaza near the city gates. From there, they would decide upon the next course of action.

Forester set off in search of likely individuals with Ras'Dar in tow. The first beggar that he found either didn't know anything or was unwilling to be seen providing information. It only required a couple of coins to make that determination.

Just off the southern side of the central plaza, a balding beggar had moved to intercept Forester. He was one of the regulars that frequented that area. Forester was already prepared for the encounter. Ras'Dar had the sense to keep to one side where he could still see both Forester and the beggar.

In response to the beggar's typical plea, Forester had dropped a gold coin into his palm. He watched for a reaction as he provided the beggar with a second coin.

The old beggar expressed his gratitude. "Most generous, kind sir. Blessin's of Akatosh be upon ya."

Rather than moving along, Forester remained in place. "If you can help me, there might be some more coin in it for you."

The beggar looked about. "Wot kinda help?"

"I'm wondering if you might have seen a robed Dunmer this morning?"

The beggar paused just a moment. "I seen lotsa people. Even a few Dunmer."

Another couple of coins found their way to the beggar's hand.

"Did see one that stood out. He was wearing robes and he had a dark beard."

Forester offered a mild grin. "That sounds just like my friend. Did you happen to notice where he might have gone?"

"Can't be sure." The beggar looked about again.

Forester took out another six coins, but held onto them.

The beggar seemed appropriately motivated. "I'm fairly sure he was headed for the Elven Gardens District. Mighta been headed for the Market District or the arena. Lotsa folk are headin' that way."

Forester seemed satisfied, handing over the coins. "Thank you, my good man. You've been most helpful."

Forester turned away as the beggar again expressed his gratitude. Ras'Dar followed along. Forester spotted another beggar working the crowds over the far side of the plaza. That was near the street that headed toward the Elven Gardens District. They made their over toward that other beggar. A similar exchange soon passed with that beggar. It seemed that Fadren had passed through the Talos Plaza District earlier and continued on through the northern districts of the city. Forest still didn't know where Fadren might have gone, but at least he had some idea of where he'd been.

After a short while, they had all regrouped at the appointed place. Monika's group had not learned anything useful. Forester had shared what he had learned from the beggars in the streets. With nothing better to go on, they agreed to head on through the northern districts and continue their search.

The Elven Gardens District seemed almost deserted compared to the activity of the Talos Plaza District. That was often the case on any given day, but even more so on that particular day. There weren't even any beggars on the streets of the Elven Gardens District that day. Aside from the two inns by the central crossroads, most of that district was residential homes. It seemed clear that most of the people had been drawn away by the activities of the festival. Most of those festivities would have been taking place in the central district, as well as some activities in the Arena District and Temple District.

Monika had led her group into The King and Queen Tavern. Forester and Ras'Dar went to the Elven Gardens Boarding House located on the corner across the side street. Both groups had soon emerged without any useful information. It seemed that Fadren had gone to neither place that morning.

They pressed onward along the curved street toward the Market District of the Imperial City. Many of the merchant establishments were remaining closed for the day. Only the taverns and some of the open street vendors were operating. Still, the streets of the marketplace appeared fairly crowded. Those street vendors that were operating appeared to be engaged in vigorous trade. It almost seemed like any other business day.

As before, they split into two groups. Forester and Ras'Dar headed off to check The Feed Bag and the western streets. Monika's group went to visit the Merchant's Inn first, before returning to the eastern streets of the marketplace.

After a short while, they had found each other again by the side street off the main crossroads, just behind the Office of Imperial Commerce.

Monika looked to Forester. "Anything?"

Forester shook his head. "I'm afraid I haven't had much luck. None of the street merchants I've spoken with seem to have remembered him and the beggars are just taking coins to tell as much."

Monika didn't seem much happier. "I had a few that thought that they might have seen him in the street, but nothing too promising. Someone suggested the Crown's Hammer."

Alex turned to Monika. "You said it was best to stay away from that place."

Monika responded. "Yeah. It's not a nice place. You won't get any food or board there and the drink is terrible." It was only place in that district that they hadn't been that was actually open that day.

Forester looked off toward the back street behind the main marketplace. "Well, it's certainly worth investigating." He knew that it wasn't a place that local Dunmer might frequent, but he suspected that Fadren wouldn't know that.

After a moment, Monika nodded with a sigh.

Forester and Monika led the others down the side street past the gates to the Imperial Prison and turned into the back street. They followed the path along the back of the buildings of the main marketplace. Along the right, a number of doors leading into the outer wall of the city were marked as warehouses. Their destination was located further along, just short of the City Watch barracks that were set into the tower where the two adjacent districts met.

It seemed intentional that the Crown's Hammer was off the main thoroughfare, away from the main activity of the marketplace. It was almost hidden away, located on that narrow back street near the outer city wall. From the outside, it seemed to be an old half-timbered building. Really, the timbered section was little more than the facade and entryway. The bulk of the tavern was actually inside the stone of the city's outer wall.

At Monika's insistence, Alex would remain outside in the street with Ras'Dar and Belwen. They settled by the wall near the entrance to the barracks.

Monika and Forester stepped inside the Crown's Hammer. The musty tavern reeked of smoke and cheap ale. By comparison, the Wawnet Inn actually seemed well lit and certainly more tidy. The place was little more than a cheap watering hole. The Crown's Hammer was generally favoured by Colovian soldiers during their off-duty hours, but during the day it seemed to attract an altogether different kind of patronage. Most of the patrons looked rather rugged and shady.

Monika and Forester tried to shuffle through the tavern toward the bar. At the same time, they casually glanced about for any sign of a Dunmer.

Forester had accidentally bumped a rough looking Imperial man. "My apologies to you, good sir."

The Imperial man glanced back only briefly. Despite his dishevelled appearance, Forester recognised him as the Penitus Oculatus field agent that he knew only as Rivers, the only one of those agents to survive that mission to Wellspring Grove.

Forester spoke again. "Oh. Just the fellow I might be hoping to see. Although at this precise moment, we were actually looking for someone else."

The agent returned an angry look and whispered harshly. "Keep your voice low."

"Of course." Forester returned the whisper.

Rivers grabbed Forester roughly, whispering again as he pulled him in closer. "Meet me behind the Merchant's Inn. I've just taken your coinpurse. Hit me. Make it look convincing."

Forester raised his eyebrows, checking for his purse. He seemed to hesitate for far too long. Monika took charge of the situation. She grabbed Rivers by the arm, swinging him about as she hit him on the side of the jaw. The agent stumbled, catching himself on a rickety wooden chair. He hurled the chair at them and dashed for the exit. A drunk made a token effort to block his path. Rivers pushed him over and escaped through the door.

When he had been struck by the chair, Forester had bumped into two large men seated at the table behind. He hadn't been hurt badly by the chair. He might have taken some bruising to the arms. However, it was likely that he was about to be in danger of dealing with more than a flying chair. Monika grabbed Forester and quickly dragged him toward the open doorway before the outbreak of a brawl.

Forester and Monika abruptly emerged from the exit to the Crown's Hammer and dashed toward Alex and the other two.

Alex had just witnessed a man come from the same doorway and then running off in the opposite direction with some haste. "What is going on? Did you see Fadren?"

Forester was looking back for signs of trouble.

Monika looked to Alex. "No, we didn't. Come on, let's get out of here."

Forester took the lead, heading directly for the side street that led back to the main marketplace. Everyone fell into step behind him, matching his brisk pace. Alex briefly glanced up at the sky. It looked to be just on midday.

~O~


	25. Chapter 25

Evening Star

Greg J Miller

~O~

Chapter 25

Morndas the 30th of Frostfall 4E48 Afternoon

It had just passed the mark of midday. Upon returning to the crowded main street of the Market District, Forester seemed to be in a hurry as he tried to make his way through the people. The throng seemed a little thicker than before as he approached the central crossroads of the marketplace.

Alex was still wondering what had happened back at the Crown's Hammer. "Where are we going?"

Monika turned back, pulling him in closer. "Meeting someone." She also checked that both Belwen and Ras'Dar were still just behind.

It was just a bit further along, that Forester turned down the alley that ran between the Merchants Inn and the blacksmith's next door. There was a small green space tucked in behind those buildings with some shady trees. The stone frame of a well was set to one side. At the far side, a low stone wall separated the green area from the narrow street that ran along in the shadow of the much taller wall surrounding the central district of the city.

Forester had halted their progress in that small patch of greenery and looked about. Some people passed by along the narrow street. A figure stood quietly in the corner by the back wall of the building in the shade of a tree.

Alex murmured to Monika. "Is that… Rivers?"

"Pinewatch." The agent spoke quietly. He waved them toward him. He also acknowledged the other two Guild Fighters with a nod. "Northwind. Forester." He looked past them to the Khajiit and Bosmer. "Who are these two?"

Forester cleared his throat. "Well, there's something of a story behind that."

Rivers produced a coinpurse and handed it to Forester. "It's all there. I just needed a good reason to be chased out of that place."

Alex started to comment upon Rivers' appearance. "You look uh…" His dishevelled appearance was a stark contrast to how Alex remembered him.

Rivers passed comment dryly. "I was trying to blend in with a certain crowd."

Monika shifted the topic. "We have some important information."

Forester interjected. "Well, it actually pertains to two different matters, but it seems that both may be related to one another."

Rivers looked to both of them in turn. "Perhaps, you should explain."

Forester glanced at Monika before taking charge of the conversation. He offered a brief outline of what he knew of the Thalmor soldiers that had been intruding upon Elsweyr and venturing into Cyrodiil. It was a brief report by Forester's measure, meaning that it remained wordy enough to challenge Rivers' immediate patience. He summarised what Ras'Dar and Belwen had encountered in the western forests of Elsweyr. He also made mention of the Daedric artefact that Belwen had carried from Arenthia, indicating that he believed it was the item that the Synod had posted an alert for. He briefly described the Dunmer mage from the northern regions that had taken the artefact and how they had tracked him to the city.

Rivers took only a moment to digest the information. "I think you should probably come with me. All of you."

Forester's expression indicated his ambivalence. "I understand, but we were hoping find this Fadren fellow before he gets away completely."

Rivers offered his reasons. "I haven't seen him. Still, I'd think that my people have a better chance of finding him in the city. I'd expect that he'll be watching out for all of you."

Forester didn't disagree, but sounded disappointed. "Yes, I suppose that you're probably right about that."

Rivers added a further question. "That Daedric artefact is dangerous?"

Forester responded. "Well, that's difficult to say. I suppose that it might be."

Rivers continued. "Then I want to get the word out about this Dunmer as soon as possible. See if he can be located, but first, all of this should be reported to my Chief Inspector."

Alex interjected. "Does that mean we are going to the tower?"

Rivers nodded once. "Yes. We should go there, right now."

No one objected.

The agent took the lead. He guided the group out to the narrow street and up the stone steps to the gated doors that separated the Market District from the central district.

* * *

They soon found themselves looking across the open space of The Green Emperor Way. Alex had found himself thinking how different it appeared from the last few times he had been there. In fact, the area seemed quite a bit less spacious that day. He noted that Ras'Dar and Belwen were about to be left behind at the gates. He paused just a moment, encouraging them to catch up.

Belwen seemed struck with awe at what she saw. The Khajiit seemed a little more occupied with trying to keep her moving. Of course, the White-Gold Tower at the centre dominated the circular area of the central district. The tower loomed large overhead, reflecting the midday sun. About the base of the tower, there was a broad circular walkway upon a raised platform of stone. That raised area featured a row of tall columns bridged by stone architrave.

Alex had never before seen so many people in the central district at one time. Of course, he had never before been there during a festival. On any other day, there might be just a few people here and there passing through the open space. Perhaps more than few at the busier times of the day. Upon that day, the people were scattered all about the area as far as he could see. Away from the paths and walkways, there wasn't quite so much hustle and bustle, but it was still crowded enough amongst the tombs and monuments of the open area. Canopies and temporary stalls were set up here and there. A variety of singing bards and other performers had drawn groups of onlookers. Alex was actually feeling a little disappointed that he didn't have the time and stop and look it all over.

Rivers had led the group along the crowded path directly toward the steps at the base of the White-Gold Tower. Belwen had been far too distracted by the towering structures above. She stumbled as she climbed the stone stairs leading up to that raised walkway area around the tower. Ras'Dar had caught her arm before she actually fell.

The elevated walkway was no less crowded than the rest of The Green Emperor Way. Upon that day, most of that walkway seemed just as bustling as the other common areas of the city. A bard juggling burning torches entertained a small crowd. Another crowd seemed just as equally entertained by the ale stand nearby.

Rivers led them through those crowds and around the path to the western side of the tower. The only entrance to the tower was through the large ornate doors ahead. That space immediately around the doors seemed one of the few places devoid of crowds. Two Imperial guards wearing elaborate armour stood at each side of the doors. Their attention only shifted as it became obvious that Rivers and his companions were actually approaching the entrance to the tower.

Rivers stepped ahead and approached one of the guards. Whatever he had said seemed to have produced an obvious response. The guard quickly opened the door and poked his head inside briefly. He then stepped aside and offered clear passage for the agent and his charges.

The group followed Rivers through the doors. Inside the tower, a hallway curved away in each direction, running the length of the outer wall of the tower. Another two armoured guards stood by another set of ornate doors across the hall. Behind those closed doors, lay the chambers where the ruling council gathered to govern the Empire. In response to Rivers' approach, the guards stood as rigid as the statues upon the pedestals by their sides.

Rivers seemed to ignore the guards, leading the group along the hall to the right. The floors of the hall were lined with longs mats cut to match the curvature. Tapestries and paintings lined the walls of the hallway at regular intervals. After a short distance, Rivers had turned and paused briefly. Belwen and Ras'Dar had started to lag behind again. He urged them to keep up and then resumed his pace.

The agent led them for quite a distance before they encountered a rampart that took them up a level and through a door. They continued to follow the curved hallway on that second level. It was immediately less decorated than the lower level. They passed several rather ordinary wooden doors along the way.

Just short of the steps up to the next level above, Rivers had halted their progress again, asking them all to step aside to the wall. A younger woman dressed in healer's robes escorted an older robed man along the hall. The older man was wearing a blindfold.

Alex whispered to Monika. "Is that man…?"

Forester answered, speaking in quiet tones. "A Blind Moth Priest."

Alex remembered Monika telling him about them. He hadn't seen any of them during the previous visits to the tower. Apparently, those priests were the only ones that could read the ancient Elder Scrolls, but it eventually took their eyesight. Neither Belwen nor Ras'Dar had any idea what the others were whispering about. The Khajiit only wondered why the old blind man seemed to command such respect. He had thought that the Emperor was supposed to be a younger and stronger man.

They soon continued on their way. Ascending to the next level, they continued along the similar looking hallway. The agent had conscripted two tower guards along the way. After passing several more doors, Rivers finally stopped. He directed Alex, Monika and Forester into an interview room and directed Belwen and Ras'Dar toward the next one. Before departing, he had assured that them that they would be attended as soon as it was possible. As expected, a guard remained outside the door to each room.

Although he wasn't certain, Alex thought it was the same room they had been taken into a few months earlier. The small room was rather plain with bare stone walls and floor. The only feature was the small rectangular wooden table at the centre and the chairs around it. It certainly looked like the same room. He supposed that they might all be exactly the same.

Monika held no expectation of a short wait. She lowered her pack and equipment to the floor and took a seat. Alex did the same. As did Forester, though he carried far less equipment.

Alex spoke first. "Why would he take Belwen and Ras'Dar to a separate room?"

Forester responded. "Well, for one thing, there's not much space in here. I might also expect that there are topics of discussion that are not meant for their ears."

Monika agreed. "He's right. They probably also expect they'll get better answers from them if they're not with us."

Alex remained silent, thinking about those things. He hoped that the Bosmer and Khajiit were not going to be in for any ill treatment. Both of them had already been through more than enough.

Now that they were alone, Forester had been thinking more pointedly about Alex's circumstance. "If you don't mind my asking, tell me this. That uh… voice magic ability that you had… you say that it had been gone since that battle at Wellspring Grove?"

Alex nodded slowly. "Yes. We think that it happened when I finished that Thalmor mage. When I damaged that Ayleid crown."

Forester stared at the table and stroked his bearded chin. "I suppose it's reasonable to expect that some sort of ancient magic was released from the object when you struck it." He looked up to Alex. "I know that I was in terrible shape at the time, but I thought I heard a noise like thunder."

Alex confirmed his suspicion. "Yes, that was me. As I struck the blow… I released the shout. I… I do not think I really meant to, but…"

Forester was nodding. His eyes darted from side to side. "Yes. That seems to make sense of some sort." He looked back to Alex. "Your… voice magic… do you have some idea of exactly how it works?"

Monika had been quietly watching the door. The shadow visible through the gap at the bottom of the door indicated the presence of the guard outside.

Alex had also briefly glanced at the door. He spoke more quietly. "It is in my bloodline. My grandfather also had it. Perhaps a little stronger than my own ability. As I understand it, it is ancient Dragon voice magic." He hesitated a little, glancing at Monika. "We think one of my forefathers might have been a Dragon Lord. From the ancient times of Skyrim."

Forester raised his eyebrows. "Interesting." He paused with his mouth open. "Well, I can't say that I know much about that. Well, nothing really."

"We do not know much either." Alex lamented.

Another thought occurred to Forester. "I do recall some mention of a similar thing. I seem to recall some writings that posed that the Septim bloodline was derived from some similar kind of heritage." He paused. His tone shifted from thoughtful speculation to something more serious. "I probably wouldn't mention that notion around here."

Monika interjected. "We don't plan to."

Forester's brows furrowed as he considered his thoughts. "I've been thinking about that burst… back in The West Weald… when you touched the artefact. I'm thinking that Azura's Star is meant to behave like a soul gem of sorts. I think that it's quite possible that it drained off whatever ancient Ayleid magic that might have been afflicting you."

"I suppose." Alex accepted.

Forester continued. "I suspect that the Ayleid magic and… Dragon magic might be completely incompatible. Well, at least that specific Ayleid magic."

"We already thought as much." Monika commented.

Forester was rubbing his beard again. "Back in The West Weald… when you touched the artefact. Did you actually shout out? With that… Dragon voice?"

Alex responded. "I think I shouted out, but that was just… just a shout of pain."

Forester looked Alex in the eye. "I wouldn't be surprised if you actually have that power restored to you after that incident with the star."

Monika spoke dryly. "We haven't had the opportunity to test that."

Alex offered his own thoughts. "I do not feel any different. Not that I can tell."

Forester patted the table with both hands. "No. I suppose you'll just have to wait for a better opportunity to see if there's been any change." He returned to stroking his beard as he pondered his thoughts.

Alex just nodded, then started rubbing the stubble upon his chin.

A silence passed between them for a short while with each of the three keeping their thoughts to themselves.

After a time, Forester had chosen to break the silence. He had casually mentioned that he had dispatched a lone Red Rope Bandit on the road between Brindle Home and Hackdirt a few weeks earlier. That was just before he visited Chorrol.

Monika was vaguely surprised to learn of that. Karl hadn't actually mentioned that detail. He'd only said that Forester had collected a bounty. She had thought that the last of the Red Rope Bandits had been finished off months ago. That implied that there could still be more of them out there.

The mention of Brindle Home had reminded Alex of something. He had asked about a farm at Brindle Home that was owned by someone named Forester.

Forester's expression indicated some ambivalence as he spoke. He revealed that his father and brother ran a horse breeding operation at Brindle Home. He had added that his grandfather had originally run that farm when he was still alive.

Alex seemed to gain some extended sense of kinship with Forester from those details, given his own history as a farmer. He had spoken a little of how Grandfather Erik had pursued a life of adventure before settling down to run the farm near Falkreath.

Forester had tried to shift the topic rather quickly. He had asked Monika whether she had observed any of those Stendarr cultists about Chorrol during recent times. She had indicated that she hadn't seen any in some time. However, she also conceded that they might well have passed through or visited the Chapel of Stendarr and she remained unaware. Of course, Alex knew nothing different. As far he knew, the only time he had ever seen one of them was that one time, as they were passing that Wayshrine near Wellspring Grove.

Forester had avoided making any specific comment of certain things that he'd recently observed. He had only mentioned that he'd recently seen some of them in both Cheydinhal and Kvatch, adding that both cities had permitted them to operate with some measure of official sanction.

The topic of conversation soon drifted to other more mundane matters, before gradually petering away to prolonged silence.

* * *

As anticipated, Forester, Monika and Alex had been kept waiting in that small room for a lengthy period of time. More than once, the occasional noises from outside had drawn attention. A number of persons had passed by the door outside. At one point, it sounded like someone might have entered the room next door, but it was hard to tell.

It was likely that the better part of two hours had passed by before the door had finally been opened from the outside. All three looked up to see the visage of that same Chief Inspector that they had met with a few months earlier.

He did look just the same as the last time they had seen him. The Imperial man was probably in his early fifties with greying hair cut short. As before, he was dressed casually, carrying some scrolls under one arm and a small bag slung over his shoulder. He glanced at the trio briefly with his pale blue eyes as he moved to take a seat at the table.

The older man had then proceeded to withdraw a worn book from his bag, as well as a quill and inkpot. He opened the book and found the page he was looking for.

He cleared his throat before speaking. His voice sounded much older than his apparent age. "Well, it seems that you've stumbled across some matters of importance." It seemed more of a comment, than an invitation for response. Accordingly, the three Guild Fighters waited for him to continue.

The Inspector glanced at each of them in turn. His expression remained perfectly inscrutable. "I can't say that I expected to see the three of you back here quite so soon." He glanced briefly at some notes on his book, but not long enough to really read anything. "I have spoken briefly with the two foreigners you brought with you. It seems that the both of them have rather interesting stories to tell." He allowed a lengthy pause to pass, again glancing briefly at each of them.

Forester spoke up. "We have no reason to doubt."

The Inspector's eyes fell upon Forester. "No, I expect not." His gaze returned to his notes. "The Khajiit confirms some things that we have already suspected. However, the young Bosmer tells a rather more interesting tale. She says that you claim that an item she carried from Arenthia is a Daedric artefact known as Azura's Star. Is that correct?"

Forester cleared his throat. "Well, yes. I believe so. Of course, I might be wrong about that."

The Inspector's glance flickered across Monika and Alex, before settling again upon Forester. "I think that I'd like to know more about this Dunmer."

Forester looked a little uncomfortable. He again cleared his throat and then proceeded to offer an account of what he knew about Fadren. He started with that first encounter near Fort Istirus. He further detailed what Fadren had told him about himself and the story of his search for a fellow Dunmer from the north. He also noted that the Dunmer might have been lying about certain aspects of his story. Forester had related how Fadren had assisted with the elimination of a nest of vampires and seemed to be exactly what he said. At least, right up until the moment he had absconded with the Daedric artefact. Forester summarised their efforts to track him through the previous evening, leading them to believe that he was somewhere in the Imperial City, or at least he had been earlier that morning.

The Inspector had been making notes in his book as Forester spoke. He took a brief moment to digest some aspects. "So, you had not encountered this Dunmer before?"

Forester's response came awkwardly. "No. Well, not directly. Well, I might have seen him in Skingrad and Kvatch, but I didn't actually know him at the time."

The Inspector shifted his gaze to Monika and Alex.

Monika answered. "We'd never seen him before. Not before he followed Forester out from Skingrad."

The Inspector's brief silence seemed to indicate acceptance. His expression didn't really indicate anything.

Forester broke the silence. "You may be aware of an open Fighter's Guild contract issued by the Synod."

The older Inspector returned a sharp nod.

Forester continued. "Well, I suspect that the Daedric artefact indicated by the contract is the same one that we encountered."

The Inspector responded. "Of course, I'm fully aware of that Synod contract. Some of the pertinent details were originally gathered via my own people. The information in that contract is still rather inconclusive." He paused for a breath. "However, I do tend to agree. It does seem to fit the general description." He paused again. "I find it interesting that the item had eluded discovery and found its way into Thalmor territories. Even more interesting, the unlikely fashion of its return to Cyrodiil."

Forester offered his opinion. "I'm quite certain that Belwen had no idea what it was."

"Probably not." The inspector conceded that point. "However, I suspect that the Dunmer might have known exactly what it was."

Forester nodded grimly. He was less inclined to defend Fadren's motives.

Monika raised the other matter of import. "What about Elsweyr?"

The Inspector shifted his focus toward her. "The Thalmor activities in Elsweyr are a matter of concern, but not an unexpected one."

Monika responded. "According to Ras'Dar, they could be all through the western forests. He says they're killing anyone that learns of their presence."

The Inspector maintained his silent gaze.

Monika expanded. She provided brief details of the encounter with the Thalmor soldiers in the southern hills of The West Weald. "I think the only reason we're not dead is because their small group was outnumbered and wounded. That, and it seemed more important that they left no other obvious evidence that they'd been into Cyrodiil."

The Inspector nodded slightly. "We've long suspected that spies and agents had been passing through regions of Elsweyr into Cyrodiil. Those you encountered a few months ago, for example."

Alex had a question. "Should we be doing something about that?"

The Inspector might have been irritated by the question, but it was hard to tell. "The appropriate regional authorities will need to be discreetly informed. However, that information should not the reach the general public. As for Elsweyr, it's no longer part of the Empire, but many of the various kingdoms remain conditionally allied. Their rulers will also need to be informed. In any event, those matters are not your responsibility, or your concern." He looked down to his notes, flicking back through a few pages.

After a moment, the Chief Inspector looked to Forester. "Since I have you here, there is another matter that has recently come to our attention."

Forester appeared a little uncomfortable under the fixed stare.

The Inspector continued. "Sources have observed that you've taken some interest in the activities of the so-called Vigilants of Stendarr. Specifically, the group in Cheydinhal and those in Kvatch."

Both Alex and Monika remained silent, looking on with some curiosity. Neither held any clear idea of what was being inferred.

Forester responded with a measure of humility. "Well, an acquaintance of mine resides in Cheydinhal…"

The Inspector interrupted the response. "Yes, the Dunmer Guild Fighter. I am quite aware of his arrangement with the representative from the Synod. I would expect that that you were also advised to leave the matter alone."

"Yes, well… after a fashion." Forester offered. "However, I uh… I have a son in Kvatch."

"Yes. I understand that your former wife and child live within that city."

"I uh… well, I have some concerns. I have observed that some of the Stendarr cultists tend toward some rather… uh, rather extreme actions, when they operate without some sort of supervision."

"I have seen the reports. I can assure that the matter is being properly examined and appropriate arrangements are being considered. I trust that you will not find any further need to intrude upon any ongoing examinations. Unless of course, you were considering a more formal position with our people."

Forester nervously cleared his throat. "Well, no."

"Then, I should hope that concludes the matter."

"I understand." Forester sounded resigned.

The Inspector looked back to his book, turning a few pages and again examining some notes. "I think that should be enough, for now." He paused. "I do have a few more questions for the Khajiit and Bosmer." He proceeded to pack away his various items. Before rising from his seat, he glanced across the table at each of the three. "I should ask that you remain here a little longer. I expect to return in a short while."

The trio remained silent as he rose and shuffled out of the room.

Once they were again alone, Monika broke the silence. "What have you been up to?"

Forester's expression seemed a mix of disappointment and contrition. "Well, nothing really. Other than what you just heard. It might be best if I didn't say. I might only recommend steering well clear of any…"

The sound of the door opening had served as an interruption. A recognisable face peered inside. His green eyes looked up beneath his fair hair. Aside from his slightly crooked nose, his lean features were relatively unremarkable. Nonetheless, that face was well known to most citizens of the Empire. It was Prince Attrebus. He had entered quickly, closing the door behind himself just as quickly. His expression had firstly remained somewhat neutral as he looked across the room.

Alex spoke first. "Tre… Prince Attrebus."

The Crown Prince's expression shifted to a smile as he stepped forward. "Alex. Monika. I'd just heard you were here." He shifted his attention to Forester, extending his hand in greeting. "You must be Forester. Malcolm, isn't it?"

Forester took his hand, trying to maintain his composure. "Majesty."

Attrebus returned his gaze to Monika and Alex. "I heard you found some more trouble with Thalmor agents. Out in The West Weald."

Monika passed comment. "We haven't been here all that long."

"I have someone that keeps me informed." Treb maintained a mild grin.

Monika eyes narrowed a little. "Aside from the Chief Inspector, we've only spoken with…" She concluded that Rivers might be the one he was referring to.

Attrebus looked slightly serious. "I'd appreciate it if you kept that to yourself. I don't want him getting into any trouble with any of the Chiefs."

Monika only nodded in response.

Alex chimed in. "I thought that Chief Inspector was the man in charge." A tilt of his head indicated the next room. "Well, beneath your father, that is."

Treb raised his eyebrows slightly. "He-heh, no. Not exactly. There's no single person in charge of the Penitus Oculatus. Not any more. We had some trouble with that a few years back. There's a Council of Chief Inspectors. They report to my father and I'm kept informed, at least somewhat." He paused for a breath. "All the other Inspectors are various ranks of field agents and clerical agents." He paused again. "Anyway, I didn't stop by for that. I thought I'd just come by to see you." His smile returned.

Alex returned the smile. "I thought you might be too busy. With the day of festival."

Treb rolled his eyes a little. "Yeah. I have to be somewhere again in about an hour. Right now, my father's over at the arena. Watching the special Emperor's Day tournaments."

Monika interjected. "The Lady Annaïg is well, I hope?"

Treb's smile almost faltered. "Oh yeah, she's fine. She's uh… maybe a bit frustrated with being cooped up in the tower. That, and all the fuss from the palace healers. Other than that, she's doing well." He paused. "There's at least another three months to go." His smile wavered again with that last comment.

Monika maintained her own subtle smile. "Please, extend our best wishes."

Alex nodded his agreement.

"Thanks, I'll do that." Attrebus' expression conveyed genuine gratitude.

Forester had kept quiet as he watched the exchange. He was somewhat bewildered by the tone of familiarity between the Crown Prince and his fellow Guildmates.

Attrebus continued. "Can't stay long. I'm sure I'd be chased out, if I tried. In any case, I have to be somewhere else." He turned to Forester again. "It was good meeting you."

Forester tried to smile. "The pleasure is all mine, Majesty."

Treb nodded and returned his gaze to Alex and Monika. "I'm glad you're both doing well. Be careful out there with your Guild work."

"We will." Monika returned.

Treb grinned. "Really, you've already done enough for the Empire. I hear you might be taking over that inn at Weye, one day." The comment was directed to Monika. He shifted his gaze toward Alex. "You could always build on that land at Weye and set up for farming."

Forester seemed surprised. "You took the land?"

Alex only nodded, stifling a yawn.

Forester had assumed that both Monika and Alex had accepted gold as the unofficial reward for their service at Wellspring Grove. He suddenly realised why Monika seemed so interested in how Nerussa was running the inn.

Treb had called his visit to an end. "I'd better get moving. It was good seeing you all again." Hurried goodbyes were exchanged before Attrebus poked his head out the door and quickly departed.

Only a relatively short silence passed.

"That was… interesting." Forester was still digesting the experience of meeting with the Prince in such an informal fashion. He struggled to suppress a yawn.

Alex wore a mild smirk. "It looks like Treb will be a father fairly soon."

Monika passed comment. "Annaïg will be doing all the hard work."

Alex glanced up toward the ceiling. "Yes. It's a pity we can't visit her." He yawned again. "I wonder whether it will be a boy or a girl?"

Monika noted Alex's casual slip with two words. He rarely departed from the more formal speech that his grandmother had drummed into him. In part, she put that down to fatigue. She started to steer him away from his line of thought. "Yeah, well uh…." The yawning was becoming contagious. "Royals are…"

The noise at the door again interrupted. This time, it was the Chief Inspector returning from the next room. He glanced at the trio. He seemed to recognise that he had just interrupted a conversation. If he had known that Attrebus had just been in there, he made no indication of it. He shuffled back to the table and repeated the ritual with the items from his bag.

Once he was quite ready, the Inspector made a short noise as he cleared his throat and looked up at the Guild Fighters. "I won't keep you for much longer. I have just a few more questions I'd like to address."

The Chief Inspector proceeded to go through various points and clarify certain things, occasionally making further notes in his book. He again made it perfectly clear that the matter of the Thalmor activities was not a topic for any public discussion. He also made of point of reminding Forester to avoid unnecessary contact with the Stendarr cultists.

After pausing to clear his throat once again, the Inspector continued. "A number of agents are being mobilised to look for this Fadren fellow. We won't keep you from looking for him. However, at this stage, I expect that our people will be more likely to locate him first."

Forester seemed to struggle to conceal an irksome expression. Monika's eyes seemed a darker shade than their usual amber, but that might have been just because she was so tired. Still, none of the Guild Fighters voiced any comment.

The Inspector cast his pale blue eyes across the trio. "I think that should mostly conclude our business. There's just one more thing." He paused briefly to unfurl the scrolls he had brought with him. "As you might expect, I'll be requiring that each of you sign these documents of confidentiality."

It wasn't much of a surprise. They had to do the same thing when they worked those contracts a few months earlier.

After signing the document, Alex had a question. "What about Belwen and Ras'Dar?"

They Inspector appeared vaguely nonplussed. "Well, they have been most helpful and forthcoming. As far as I'm concerned, they are both free to go. I'd only recommend that you remind them of the importance of remaining quiet about what they know."

Alex nodded, struggling with the pressing urge to yawn.

After packing away his things, the Inspector rose from his seat. "Very well. Thank you for your assistance in these matters. I will have the guards escort you from the tower. Good day to you all."

The Chief Inspector made his way out of the room, leaving the door open. He spoke briefly with the guards outside and then went on his way.

The three Guild Fighters proceeded to gather up their equipment as the guards waited patiently for their exit from the room. Ras'Dar and Belwen were already waiting out in the hall. They both appeared quite weary. As advised, the two guards escorted the group back down through the tower to the doors that led outside.

* * *

Emerging from the White-Gold Tower, the passage of time was immediately quite evident. It seemed clear that more than four hours had passed by since they had entered the tower. The sun had already fallen well below the tall walls of the city. It was most likely near to settling upon the horizon by that time.

The crowds had eased notably, but there were still a lot of people spread throughout The Green Emperor Way. Two men were making their way through the people, lighting the city lamps. They also ignited the temporary torches that had been placed here and there. A rowdy group of drunks were singing at a spot along the northern side of the raised walkway. That was near the still busy ale stand. There was a less rowdy group watching some bards performing a play over near the outer wall of the district. Another crowd was gathered about a quartet of musicians just south of where they were standing on the walkway.

Alex raised the obvious question. "What should we do now?"

Monika sighed. "I'm too tired to do much of anything." She glanced about each of the others. "We all are."

Alex failed to stifle a yawn. "What about… what about Fadren?"

Monika looked to Alex with weary eyes. "I think we should just leave it to the agents."

Forester seemed to bristle just a little. "As much as it might annoy me, I suppose that I must agree. They do stand a better chance of finding him."

"So, then?" Alex prompted.

Monika sighed again. "We should head back to the Wawnet Inn. I told Nerussa that we might be back. There should be room for all of us."

Forester opened his mouth, then seemed to change his mind. "Well, I suppose that it is on the way back to Skingrad."

The Khajiit finally entered the conversation. "Ras'Dar does not have the coin for staying at inn. This one expects that Belwen has even less."

Belwen didn't confirm the obvious.

"That won't be a problem." Monika advised. "Food and board will be taken care of."

The Khajiit offered his friendliest grin. "Imperial Fighters are most generous. Ras'Dar is most grateful."

Monika just nodded and turned to look toward the path. "Come on, then. It'll be dark soon. We should get moving before we all fall down."

The others fell into step with Monika as she started off. They headed directly for the Talos Plaza District and the main gates out of the city.

* * *

The sun was just settling below the western horizon as Fadren Verelas emerged from the Waterfront Inn onto the docks of the Imperial Waterfront District. He paused for a moment to casually glance about, running a hand over his freshly cropped head and cleanly shaved face. It seemed a strange sensation. It had been years since his hair had been so short. Even longer since his face had been without a beard.

The Dunmer exchanged a friendly nod with the Imperial guard who was bringing his torch up to light the oil lamp on the wall.

Fadren had discarded the robe he had been wearing. He was again wearing his plain clothes. He felt satisfied that he appeared quite different from how he looked when he passed through the city earlier that day. He didn't know for certain whether anyone might be looking for him. However, he suspected that Forester might have been rather upset that he had run off with Azura's Star after that incident in The West Weald. He wouldn't have been surprised if the Guild Fighter had tried to follow his muddy tracks. He didn't know whether any of his companions held the skill to track him. Even if it had been the case, he doubted that anyone could have followed his movements through that crowded city upon the hill above the docks.

Fadren gently patted the satchel that hung from his shoulder as he strolled along the curved dock of the waterfront. That satchel contained everything that he had. There was a little dried food and a water flask, along with what little gold that he had left. He had earlier purchased a map of Cyrodiil from the Imperial Trading Company office just a little further along the docks. The map cost a bit more than he might have expected, but he planned to put it to good use. Of course, the most important thing in his satchel was that item that brought him to that location in the first place, Azura's Star.

The Dunmer offered a silent prayer to Azura in the twilight. The dusk represented one her times of greatest influence. With such an object of her power at his side, he felt assured that his prayer would be heard, if not answered. He briefly wondered just how far he could travel before the arrival of the next twilight with the following dawn.

~O~


	26. Chapter 26

Evening Star

Greg J Miller

~O~

Chapter 26

Tirdas the 31st of Frostfall 4E48

The light of the approaching dawn coming through the windows had woken Alex. He gently disengaged from Monika's embrace and tried to get up without disturbing her. It had to have been at least ten hours since he had fallen asleep. He knew that he needed the rest, but he really couldn't stay in bed for much longer than that. He tried to ignore Ocato's face staring down at him from the portrait as he used the chamber pot. He found some passing amusement from the notion that Forester would have the image of Emperor Mede watching over him in the next room.

The previous evening, they had departed the Imperial City and wearily headed directly back to the Wawnet Inn. It was fully dark by the time that they had arrived. The tavern area seemed a bit more crowded than they might have expected. Being so close to the Imperial City, the inn was more often starved of patronage. Even during such lively times. Still, it certainly seemed busier than usual. A couple of Legion riders occupied the far corner, presumably on their break. A few of the village locals had gathered in the other far corner and there were another four unfamiliar faces in the tavern. The entry of another five bodies made the small place appear rather crowded. The old fisherman's wife, Flaenia, seemed quite busy. Nerussa was also occupied with preparing some stew behind the service bar.

Monika had spoken just briefly with Nerussa in private. The main order of business for the group was having something to eat, then attending to much needed rest. Of course, Nerussa had kept aside that room upstairs for Monika and Alex. Forester had insisted upon paying for the best room available. That was the one next door to the best room. Someone else had already secured the only other room upstairs. Belwen and Ras'Dar were placed in two of those smaller and shabbier downstairs rooms at the back. The only other room at the back had already been rented. It had probably been some time since every room of the inn was fully occupied for the evening, even if not all were rented to paying customers.

Once everyone had been fed, they each dispersed in search of rest. There hadn't been much conversation. None of them had the stamina or will to think of anything but the call of sleep. Of course, Forester had been the last one to finish. Just watching him eat so slowly had seemed almost sleep inducing.

Upstairs in their small but tidy room, Monika had wearily peeled off her leather armour, leaving it to lay where it fell, before she flopped down onto the bed. It wasn't for Alex's sense of order her leathers would have just stayed there on the floor. He dutifully gathered up her armour and hung it to air beside his own as he normally would.

Still, that was about the full reach of Alex's remaining energy. He climbed into bed beside her, expending the last of his reserves finding a comfortable position. Only a brief moment of intimacy passed as Monika adjusted her own position to take hold of Alex, bringing her lips up to meet his. After just a few moments, both of them were sleeping soundly.

Alex was still feeling a bit tired that morning, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. He took a sip of water and tried sit back down upon the bed without waking Monika. There wasn't anywhere else to sit in that small room. He was wondering what they would be doing next. There hadn't been any talk of that the previous evening.

Trying his best to remain quiet, Alex just sat there on the bed and cast his mind over the events of the past few days.

He remained somewhat annoyed that Fadren had eluded them, but he imagined that Forester was far more annoyed with the circumstance. Still, there was most likely very little to be done about it all by then. The Penitus Oculatus had effectively taken the responsibility from them. He was prepared to accept that they were probably far better equipped to track down someone that didn't want to be found. He still found it little difficult to believe that Fadren was actually a bad person. He didn't seem particularly dishonourable. In fact, aside from his running off with that Daedric artefact, Alex would have thought that the Dunmer seemed perfectly honourable. He supposed that Fadren must have had his reasons. He idly wondered whether Fadren had fallen under sort of spell that came from Azura's Star or if it was because of something that Belwen's Thalmor master had done to it. He didn't really know how any of those sorts of things might work. Still, he wasn't prepared to dismiss such possibilities.

Alex also recalled that Chief Inspector warning Forester off from those Vigilants of Stendarr. He wondered that was all about. His thoughts were interrupted as Monika stirred.

She reached out blindly with her hand and found Alex's arm. "Mmm, you up already?"

Alex gently placed his hand over hers. "Yes. It is light outside."

Monika buried her face in the covers. "Is too early."

Alex knew better than to suggest otherwise. He chose to remain quiet. He wondered whether they would be deciding to head directly back to Skingrad or not. He was thinking that if they headed off early enough, they might be able to make it there by nightfall, or at least by fairly early in the evening. Alex imagined that Guildhead Canne would surely be expecting their return by then. He hoped that Forester wasn't just trying to be optimistic when he said he could smooth things with Canne.

Alex didn't really get so much time to ponder those things. Monika had grown restless in fairly short order. After shifting position several times, she had finally surrendered to the notion that she should wake up.

Monika peered through one squinting eye. "Time's it?"

Alex spoke softly. "It must be coming up on seven."

Monika groaned, leaving both of her eyes closed.

"It has been more than ten hours." He tried to make it sound like a gentle comment.

"You got water?" Monika waved her hand limply.

"Right here." Alex passed the flask to her.

Monika rolled to her side, still only opening one eye as she took the flask. She took a few lengthy sips of water, before handing it back. She yawned, then tried out the idea of opening both eyes at once. "I 'spose we should be getting up."

"Will we be heading back to Skingrad?"

"We should probably talk about that. With the others, I mean."

"Do you think we will have any trouble with Guildhead Canne?"

Monika sighed. "Probably. Maybe Forester has more favour with her."

Alex hesitated, opening his mouth, then closing it again. Then he went ahead anyway. "Was… was Guildhead Canne the one in charge at Skingrad, back then? Back when you got into that trouble?"

Monika sighed again. She didn't seem angry. Her expression appeared perhaps more weary than anything else. Alex had been quite reluctant to raise the topic, but he'd also been wondering about it for quite some time.

Monika patted him on the arm. She offered a mild smile and a somewhat sympathetic expression. She could see that Alex was bracing himself for some kind of reprisal. "It's okay. I probably should have told you about it before."

"If you do not want to…" Alex opted to offer another opportunity for her to put it aside.

"No. You probably should know about it." She pulled the covers up to cover her breasts as she composed herself. She released another sigh.

"Yeah, Canne was in charge at the time. That was back in forty-five. Just over three years ago. I was only meant to be passing through Skingrad. I'd been out to Anvil again, just before. I wasn't really planning to spend any time there. Anyway, they were shorthanded at the Guildhall, with everyone out on jobs. Since I was there, I offered to help out." She paused a moment and asked for the water again.

After taking a few sips, she continued. "There was an urgent contract that came straight from the Count's people. A vampire problem. The bloodsuckers had unsealed Bloodcrust Cavern and set up in there. That's just outside the city, near the castle. Apparently, they'd been coming into town at night. Word is, the Count has no tolerance for vampires or the like in his county." She paused again.

"Aside from Canne, there was just one other Guild Fighter there." She briefly glanced up at the ceiling in thought. "His name was Calvus. He was only a first rank Fighter. He'd only just made it up from recruit not that long before." She paused, looking to Alex.

He remained silent, but visibly attentive.

Monika resumed. "Canne had sent the two of us out with four soldiers from the castle barracks. I thought the six of us could handle the vampires." She paused again, looking away with a wistful expression. "I was only one to survive." She shook her head, looking down. "Some of the vampires got away as well. There were only five of them. We should have been able to handle it, but…" She shook her head again. "One of those soldiers was the daughter of one of Count Hassildor's stewards." She looked back up to Alex. "That's pretty much it, really. I was in charge and I messed up… and no one else made it out. I should have been more careful. A lot more careful."

Alex took a moment. He then understood why Monika had seemed so tense when they were at Howling Cave. A number of other little things also seemed to start to make more sense. He tried to find the right thing to say. "I am sure that you did your best."

"Maybe." She sighed. "Maybe, I should have done better."

Alex considered leaving the matter alone, but spoke anyway. "We did well enough the day before yesterday. No one was really hurt. Well, not badly." He paused. "Forester did lose his helmet… and I suppose, those vampires did not have such a good day."

Monika released a soft snort, not quite a laugh. "Yeah. You're right."

They both shared a brief smile.

After a moment, Alex's expression had grown more serious. "There is actually something I have been meaning to tell you. For quite a while, now."

Monika's brows furrowed with mild concern. "What's wrong?"

"It is about how we first met."

Monika's expression indicated some confusion.

Alex continued. "I had told you that I was on my way to Chorrol."

Monika returned a sharp nod, still frowning.

"I did not say how I came to be wandering about the wilderness like that." He paused, arranging his thoughts. "I never thought that taking a wagon from Falkreath would be dangerous. I never considered that the men on the wagon might be thieves. I probably should have been more careful. More prepared for something like that. They beat me and left me on the road. Took everything I had, even Grandfather Erik's sword. If I had not found that equipment left by a dead hunter and then met you…"

Monika wore a crooked grin. "I kind of figured it might've been something like that."

Alex raised his eyebrows in surprise.

Monika clarified. "I didn't think that you'd left that farm behind with just a hunting bow and a half empty backpack."

Alex's expression remained somewhat serious.

Monika realised what Alex was trying to do with his embarrassing confession. She tossed aside the covers and gently patted him on the thigh. "Come on. We should get up and head downstairs."

* * *

By the time that dawn had broken over the distant Valus Mountains, Fadren Verelas had just found his way to where The Blue Road intersected with the ring road surrounding Lake Rumare. That map that he'd purchased the previous day had already served well enough.

Fadren had casually made his way from the docks of the Imperial Waterfront as darkness was setting in the previous evening. Although he had fully intended to leave that place on foot, earlier in the day, he made some inquiries at the office of the Imperial Trading Company regarding ships sailing around Tamriel to the northern provinces. That was before he had cut his hair and shaved off his beard. He knew full well that he didn't have the coin to book passage on any ships setting off upon such long voyages. He just wanted to be seen expressing the interest.

As the sun settled below the western horizon, he had crossed over the low stone bridge that separated the waterfront and docks from the main City Isle. Even though there were four vessels at dock and another couple anchored in the harbour, there was very little sign of activity about the waterfront. Aside from the lone Imperial Guard wandering the docks, there were just a couple of people headed for the houses located on the southern side of the towering wall that loomed over the docks and a couple of rugged looking sailors headed for the tavern.

Of course, Fadren could have stayed at the inn. After all, he had paid for a room there and he had only allowed himself a short rest during the afternoon. However, he had rather more important things in mind. He wouldn't rest any more than absolutely necessary.

He passed by the tall lighthouse that dominated the City Isle side of the harbour. The entryway to the main city was just a short distance beyond. Still, he had no intention of going back into the city. For one, that would mean passing back through that long tunnel that led back up to the Temple District. Even with all the festivities in the main city, a number of beggars remained within that tunnel to try their luck with those coming to or from the waterfront. Fadren expected that the beggars of the Imperial City were no different from those of Windhelm or Solitude. A few coins would easily persuade them to speak of anything or anyone that they noticed passing by.

Fadren had casually slipped into the darkness beyond the reach of oil lamps and started off across the shoreline to the east of the waterfront area. That map that he had studied might not have been perfectly accurate, but it still provided a good idea of what to expect. Once the moons had risen, it became a little easier to see where he was going. Rather than keeping to the shoreline and following each peninsular and bay, he had cut across a few areas as he made his way around that neglected part of the City Isle.

At one point, he had avoided an encampment by the shoreline. A small boat had been pulled up the beach of a small inlet. A group of people sat about a campfire. Really, there was nothing immediately suspicious about their behaviour. Still, he considered it unusual that they would chose to camp so near the city, yet completely out of view of any regular traffic.

Fadren had travelled nearly half way around the isle before arriving at a narrow part of the lake. It wasn't all that far across, but the water was deep enough that he needed to swim most of the way. The waters of the lake seemed oddly warm in contrast to the cooler evening air. Once he was back on land, the chill from his soaked clothing had brought immediate discomfort. Fortunately, he knew a spell that could dispel most of the moisture, if not all.

He firstly needed to avoid a group of giant mud crabs by the shoreline before going on his way. He held no interest in fighting the creatures. They were easily outpaced.

Before too long, Fadren had found The Red Ring Road and determined roughly where he was on the map. Of course, he realised that the most direct path back to Skyrim would have been via Bruma, back the way he had previously travelled. That was why he had decided to head for Cheydinhal instead. He had recalled Forester mentioning how that city held the greatest population of Dunmer in Cyrodiil. It seemed to him that he might attract less attention at such a location. According to the map, there were lesser roads that led north from that city, eventually connecting to that road with the pass through the mountains into Skyrim.

That plan seemed the most sound in Fadren's mind. He didn't really know whether someone would be looking to find him, but he thought it best to behave as though it was the case. As far as he knew, only Forester and his companions were likely to know that he held Azura's Star and that he came from the north. Still, they could well have informed others by then. There did seem to be quite a bit of organised interest in retrieving the Daedric artefact.

Nevertheless, even if anyone had reason to be looking for him and the knowledge that he might be headed north, he believed that his plans would serve to disappoint. He had already done his best to alter his appearance. Furthermore, he intended to deviate from the likely path and delay his travel a short while. By the time that he eventually reached that mountain pass, it would surely be expected that he had already gone that way some time before. At least to his own manner of thought, that logic seemed to hold.

* * *

Alex and Monika had dressed in plain clothes and come down from their upstairs room. Forester had already left his own room some time before. The tavern area was far less crowded than the previous evening. Aside from their own number, a single Legion rider sat in the tavern taking an early morning break. He looked like he had been out all night. He wasn't the same one that was in there the previous morning.

Flaenia had already returned to the inn and was busy cleaning mugs behind the service bar. Alex was casually wondering if she actually went home at night. Nerussa was nowhere to be seen. Presumably, she was resting in her quarters out behind the bar area.

Forester was fully dressed in his mithril armour and seated at a table, speaking with Ras'Dar and Belwen. It seemed that Forester and Ras'Dar were doing most of the talking and Belwen was just listening.

"This one is skilled with hunting bow. Ras'Dar has not had need to learn skill with sword and shield. Khajiit is always ready to learn new things. Perhaps, Guild Fighters could teach, yes?"

The topic of the conversation seemed obvious enough. It wasn't immediately evident whether it was Forester or Ras'Dar that led the direction, but the Khajiit appeared rather taken with idea of the Fighters Guild. Perhaps he was more taken with the idea of something that paid better than what he could find back in Elsweyr.

Once Monika and Alex had joined the group, it soon become fairly obvious that Monika had something in mind. She had been gently coaxing Belwen to explain the nature of her duties as a household servant back in Arenthia. Monika had nodded thoughtfully at each of Belwen's responses to her questions.

"How would you feel about working here at the inn, behind the bar?"

Belwen seemed apprehensive. "I've never done anything like that before."

"Of course you have. You've just never taken any payment for it."

"Do you think I'd be capable?"

Monika offered a reassuring smile. "I think so."

Belwen didn't really have anywhere else to go, but remained outwardly nervous of what was being suggested. "The innkeeper might not…"

Monika got up from her seat. "Come on. I have some influence with the owner." She grinned as she took Belwen by the hand to lead her out to see Nerussa.

Alex became drawn into the conversation with Ras'Dar. The Khajiit seemed quite interested in how the Fighter's Guild operated and what they actually did. Many of his questions focussed upon how that Guild's work differed from that of the Imperial Legion. Ras'Dar had thought that there had been Guild Fighters in Elsweyr long ago, but that must have been long before his time. Back when those lands were still part of the Empire. He also thought that there might have been some sort of thing like that over in Rimmen, but he had never travelled that far eastward.

The Legion soldier had left the tavern at some point during that discussion to return to his duties. After a short time, Monika had returned with Belwen in tow.

From her outward expression, Monika seemed quite pleased with herself. "We've just had a talk with Nerussa. Belwen is going to work here at the inn."

Alex's expression was a mix of mild surprise and delight. "That is good news. I am sure you will do well."

"Of course." Forester agreed with a pleasant smile.

The Khajiit's ears twitched. "Ras'Dar thinks he will miss Belwen."

Belwen offered a tight smile. "Are you going back to that place in Elsweyr?"

Ras'Dar's feline ears had pricked up as his eyes widened. "Riverhold will not slide from the hillside without Ras'Dar. This one thinks that travelling to Skingrad is good idea. Guild Fighters might find use of clever Khajiit."

Forester nodded a casual agreement.

Belwen maintained her smile. "Oh? I should wish you luck, then."

Ras'Dar smiled broadly. It almost appeared threatening. "Even clever Khajiit take luck where it can be found."

Forester and Monika had led the following discussion of their immediate plans. Some care was taken to keep the conversation fairly quiet. Flaenia was the only person that might overhear anything. Still, any mention of Thalmor spies was kept subdued and vague. Alex had only a few comments to offer. The other two remained silent until it was done.

Alex's face indicated some disappointment. "It seems like we should be doing more."

Forester offered his own view. "I can't say that I'm perfectly comfortable with everything. However, it seems that most of it is out of our hands."

Monika spoke quietly. "We've done our bit. Besides, we've already played our part in preserving the Empire once this year. More or less." She was referring to that mission that ended at Wellspring Grove.

Forester cleared his throat. "Well, since we are unlikely to be pursuing Fadren any further and other matters remain above our station, I suppose that we really should be heading back to Skingrad." No one expressed immediate opposition. "I'm not sure how Canne will react to the delay. Nevertheless, we have completed the assigned task and we can also advise her of the matter of that Daedric artefact. She'll be glad to hear of that open contract disappearing from the books. Perhaps the idea of an enthusiastic new recruit will take her interest."

Ras'Dar's ears had again pricked up, reinforcing the notion of his enthusiasm.

Monika had waited for Forester to finish. "You should go on ahead."

Forester raised his eyebrows. They slowly slipped down into a frown.

Monika explained. She had decided to remain at the inn for the day to help Belwen settle in. That might have been more about Nerussa than Belwen. Of course, Alex had quickly elected to remain with her. Monika assured that they would set off early the next morning to return to Skingrad. Hopefully, Canne would be less irritable by the time that they arrived. She wasn't really counting on that. Monika expected that Canne would be docking them for at least that day and probably the one before as well. That wasn't really too much of a concern.

With other matters settled, various farewells were made. Forester made some effort to disguise his eagerness to get under way. Still, it was obvious enough to everyone except the suddenly talkative Khajiit. The farewells that Ras'Dar offered to both Monika and Alex had been flavoured with enthusiasm and a layer of familiarity that seemed out of place. Especially since he had only known them for a few short days. He'd only known the young Bosmer girl for just a few days longer than that. Still, it seemed that he had grown rather fond of her during that short time. Ras'Dar was not sure that he understood it. Since that time in the forests, he'd grown used to protecting her. He'd grown used to her presence and felt reluctant to surrender that.

Ras'Dar had saved his warmest farewell for last. "This one is very sure to be missing Belwen." His ears twitched a little.

Belwen returned a friendly smile. "I'll be fine here. You should watch out for yourself."

Ras'Dar tilted his head pensively. "Khajiit was youngest of twelve brothers. Ras'Dar never had younger sister. Not even older sister. This one likes to think if Ras'Dar had sister, she might be like you… maybe with some more fur."

Belwen continued to smile. She patted the Khajiit's arm. "You know where I'll be."

Forester cleared his throat. "Very well, we should be on our way." He shot a glance toward Monika. "I expect that we'll see you tomorrow?"

Monika nodded sharply. "Or the next morning, at the Guildhall."

Forester returned a nod. "Of course." He offered a tight smile, then turned toward the exit with the Khajiit in tow.

* * *

Fadren Verelas had hardly passed unseen that day; not that it particularly concerned him at all. His outward appearance had been altered enough that he didn't immediately resemble any description that might be issued. In any event, it was probably still too soon for that to even become a consideration.

During the earlier part of the morning, he had encountered some Imperial riders on regular patrol. The very first had been along The Red Ring Road. Nothing more than cordial greetings had passed between them. Fadren had later encountered another two slow moving Legion riders along The Blue Road, one travelling in each direction.

As the morning progressed toward midday, the traffic along The Blue Road had increased notably. It seemed that much of it was headed in the same direction, toward Cheydinhal. A few fast moving riders had passed him by without slowing their pace. A little later, a couple of wagons laden with passengers had also passed by. Fadren assumed that the travellers had come from the Imperial City and were returning to Cheydinhal after attending those festivities that he had witnessed the previous day.

Nobody paid much special attention to the lone Dunmer heading along the road to Cheydinhal. That circumstance suited him perfectly.

Provided that map was fairly accurate, Fadren expected that he should reach the city of Cheydinhal by nightfall. At the very worst, perhaps a little later than that. He was somewhat curious to see a city in Cyrodiil where his own people made up a greater portion of the populace. If not for the will of Azura, he might never have seen such things during his lifetime.

~O~


	27. Chapter 27

Evening Star

Greg J Miller

~O~

Chapter 27

Fredas the 3rd of Sun's Dusk 4E48

Three days had passed since Forester and Ras'Dar had set off from the Wawnet Inn for Skingrad on Tirdas morning. As expected, it was well after dark by the time that they finally reached that city. It was too late in the evening to consider reporting to the Guildhall. Although he had not spoken of it, Forester had been understandably apprehensive of speaking with Canne. After briefly visiting the tavern not far from his home for a meal, Forester had led Ras'Dar back to his house to rest for the evening.

On Middas morning, Forester made his way across town to the local Guildhall with Ras'Dar in tow. The Khajiit had not commented much upon what he thought of Skingrad other than to mention that it was different from that Imperial City. Ras'Dar had actually been rather quiet that morning. It was a stark contrast to the previous day. Forester had almost reached the limit of his patience with the near constant chatter that seemed to last all the way from Weye to Skingrad. He appreciated the peaceful bliss of sleep just a little more than usual that night.

Forester was not anticipating any atmosphere of bliss to be found within the Guildhall that morning. The old porter looked up with obvious surprise at Forester's arrival. Some of his surprise might have been related to the Khajiit standing in Forester's shadow.

"Forester." The elderly man greeted him with a harsh stare.

"Fadus." Forester returned evenly.

"You're late." It was possible that his irritable tone masked some relief. If that were actually the case, Fadus Calidius would never admit to it.

"Yes, well… there was some unexpected delay." Forester scratched his beard.

"What about those other two?" Fadus might have been more interested in the silver weapons he had issued. That matter would surely come up before the day was done.

"They've uh… they've been delayed a little longer." Forester shifted to scratching the back of his scalp.

Fadus had allowed a short moment to pass before asking the most obvious question. "Who's the Khajiit?" He didn't look at Ras'Dar directly.

Forester cleared his throat. "Well, that's another story." He broke eye contact, glancing toward the stairs at the back of the entry hall.

Fadus maintained his harsh glare. "You'd better get upstairs."

"Yes, of course." Forester had long since grown accustomed to gauging Canne's moods from the tone of the old porter's disposition. He anticipated a long and uncomfortable debriefing session ahead of him.

Forester headed for the stairs, signalling Ras'Dar to follow. They made their way up to the top level, where Forester instructed the Khajiit to take a seat in the waiting area. Of course, Ras'Dar agreed fairly quietly and without question. Forester proceeded directly to the office of Adrienne Canne. As was usually the case, the door was open. The Breton woman was seated at her desk going over some documents. She made a point of looking up rather slowly, even though she'd obviously heard his approach.

"You're late." Canne didn't wait for any response. "Take a seat."

Forester did as requested and tried to lead with the best news first, but it didn't exactly come out that way. "Well, after having successfully dispatched the vampires at Howling Cave, we uh… well, we ran into some unexpected circumstances."

"Northwind and Pinewatch?" Canne's expression indicated little.

Forester responded quickly. "Oh, they're both fine. They've been delayed. Uh… unexpected circumstances."

Canne's glare indicated a measure on annoyance over his uncharacteristically brief and indistinct response. "Perhaps, you'd care to explain?"

Forester cleared his throat and composed himself. He proceeded to provide detail of the vampires found at Howling Cave. He advised that eight vampires were found and dispatched, with no indication of any further number. Before proceeding further, he told her all about the Dunmer mage that he'd met and befriended, including some of his background story. Rather awkwardly, he explained how Fadren had followed him out past Silorn. Only after learning of his skill with dealing with vampires, they had reluctantly allowed him to provide assistance. Canne's expression had suggested that she was displeased with what she was hearing. That might have been mostly about allowing the outsider to participate. It could just as easily have been about the nature of his circuitous manner of explanation. Forester had made it clear that Fadren's actions had been most helpful in successfully eliminating the vampires without serious injury or casualties. He provided more detail than she was interested in hearing.

Forester soon shifted his report toward the other matters of importance. He explained how after they had dealt with the vampires in the old mine, they had encountered a Khajiit and Bosmer on the run from a small group of outlaws. He avoided any mention of the Thalmor incursion, speaking only of the outlaws. Once the outlaws had been dealt with, they had learned that the Bosmer girl had carried a Daedric artefact all the way from Arenthia, by way of Elsweyr. Forester related how he believed the artefact to be Azura's Star and that it was most likely the object that had given rise to that Synod contract. He then went on to explain how the artefact had unleashed a magical force when the Bosmer had dropped it. During the time that everyone else was incapacitated, Fadren had escaped with the artefact. With the assistance of the Khajiit, they had tracked the Dunmer all the way to the Imperial City. Since that time, they had lost him altogether, but the Penitus Oculatus had questioned them and taken over the search for Fadren and the Daedric artefact. Both Northwind and Pinewatch were delayed, but were expected to return to Skingrad by the evening.

Canne had been taking a few notes during Forester's lengthy report. By the time he had finally finished, she just sat there staring at him for an extended moment. There was no way that he could have been making up such a convoluted tale, not that she doubted his words. Of course, she held no reason to suspect the only detail that he had omitted. In fact, he had managed to almost overwhelm her completely with all the details that he had offered. It was quite possibly one of the lengthiest verbal reports that she had ever heard come from his mouth, and she'd heard many such reports from him before.

Even if Canne had intended to remain annoyed with Forester, it appeared he had successfully worn her down. It seemed that they had successfully completed the initial task that she had sent them on. Overlooking the matter of that Dunmer, it also seemed that their actions would result in the business of that Synod contract going away. At least as far as the Guild was concerned.

As much as it pained her to do so, she needed to have him repeat a few details so that she could make a proper report for documentation. Once that was finally done, she raised the issue of the Khajiit waiting outside. Forester had vaguely wondered how she knew. He supposed that she must have heard something before he came in.

Forester explained that Ras'Dar had previously worked with the Imperial Legion in Elsweyr and that he was interested in applying to join the Fighter's Guild.

Canne appeared suitably weary as Forester proceeded to state Ras'Dar's case for petition. It was certainly possible that Forester was overstating the Khajiit's skills, since he had been largely taking him at his word. He had suggested that Ras'Dar was a skilled archer, hunter and tracker from the north of Elsweyr, and he reiterated his contract service for the Legion forces stationed outside of Riverhold. Forester had conceded that Ras'Dar would surely require training with other weapons, but remained confident that he would prove just as agile as any other Khajiit. He also expressed his belief in Ras'Dar's motivation and enthusiasm, suggesting that he might eventually make an excellent replacement for the Guild Fighter that they had recently lost.

Canne didn't posses the resolve to offer any objection. It was only mid-morning, but Forester had made her feel as though it was already after noon. She advised him that Ras'Dar could be recruited conditionally under Forester's sponsorship. Initial training and assessment would fall to Forester. Of course, there was no guarantee that he would make it past recruit.

Canne had also made mention that Elynwen had still not returned from the far side of The West Weald. She was prepared to wait another day or two. After that, she might be inclined to send Forester out with those other two to look for her group. Until then, Forester could look to the Khajiit's training.

Lastly, Canne had Forester bring Ras'Dar into her office to attend to the necessary paperwork. As soon as it was done, she dismissed them both. Whatever concerns she might have previously held for Forester's well being had been fully worn away. She was glad to be returning to her paperwork.

Forester led Ras'Dar downstairs and then down to the basement level of the Guildhall to commence the first part of his instruction and training. That activity promised to keep them fully occupied for the remainder of the day.

* * *

Just as they had planned, Monika and Alex had set off from the Wawnet Inn before the rise of dawn on Middas. That was hours before Forester had gone to the Guildhall that morning. Even leaving that early, they didn't really expect to make it to Skingrad before nightfall.

Also as planned, they had passed the previous day at the Wawnet Inn. Monika had busied herself with helping Belwen to settle in. Flaenia had also come in to help guide Belwen with what would be expected of her. Some of Monika's assistance was more directly related to Nerussa. At one point during the day, Monika had a private conversation with Nerussa regarding the young Bosmer. Without going into all the details, she had related some of what Belwen had endured before escaping from Valenwood. Mostly, she was just trying to encourage Nerussa to go easy on her. She didn't want Belwen feeling as though as had traded one life of misery for another one of fresh torment. Nerussa had seemed to shrug off the insinuation, but it did seem clear that she understood what Monika was asking of her.

Alex felt a little idle that day. There just wasn't that much for him to do, but keep out of the way. He had gone back upstairs at one point to sort through their gear and take stock of their current supplies. During the afternoon, with little else to do, he had taken the opportunity to have an early bath and a proper shave. He felt much better afterward. As it passed, the day had not been quite as long as he had expected. Monika had suggested an early meal and a very early night, since they were planning to be up well before the sunrise.

It would not have been all that long past sunset by the time that they retired to their upstairs room. Alex had already sorted all their equipment so that they would be able to leave quickly in the morning. Even though he knew that they needed to be ready well before the dawn, he wasn't feeling at all tired by the time that they went to bed. As it turned out, Monika wasn't all that tired either. In fact, her mood had shifted to other more amorous pursuits fairly quickly. Alex didn't tire so quickly, but did feel sleepy enough afterward.

It was still dark as they set off from Weye toward The Gold Road. Of course, other than the occasional Legion rider ambling along the road, there was no one else about at that time of the morning. Even once they had made it onto the road to Skingrad, there was still very little traffic to be seen that day. Most of the travellers had left the Imperial City the day before.

Near to midday, they had paused at a secluded spot along The Gold Road. Once they were fairly certain that the road appeared clear for a good distance in each direction, they stepped off to the side of the road.

Monika had convinced Alex that they needed to know whether that voice power of his had returned since that incident with Azura's Star. After a fashion, Alex had tried to maintain an air of indifference. He still felt that he wouldn't be terribly concerned if that power never returned to him. Nevertheless, he had conceded that it was better to know one way or the other.

Alex prepared himself, facing the trees at the edge of road. Monika stood well clear, off to one side. Then, Alex formed the thought in his mind and shouted that only word in the ancient dragon tongue that he knew. "FUS."

From his expression, it was obvious that Alex was somewhat surprised by the booming sound that emerged from his mouth, along with that rush of wind expelled with great force. He appeared even more surprised as he lost his footing and landed upon his backside on the road. Evidently, he had failed to properly brace his stance, perhaps half expecting that nothing would happen.

Monika had rushed to Alex's side, as he lay gasping and helpless. She cast a healing spell over him to expedite his recovery. Once Alex had regained the ability to speak, he had assured her that he was uninjured. Nevertheless, she insisted that he drink a healing potion and take a short while to rest. From previous experience, she knew how it left him weakened.

As they were sitting quietly by the side of road, Monika had started to snicker. She quickly stifled it with a snort, looking at her boots.

Alex looked to her. "What is it?"

"Nothing." After a moment, Monika snorted again, stifling a chuckle, still looking down at her boots.

"What?" Alex looked to her again.

Monika held a tight grin, biting down on her lower lip. She avoided looking directly at Alex's face. Another snort escaped, as she looked up.

Alex's eyebrows were raised in question. He smiled, without really knowing why.

Monika almost composed herself. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry, but… but the look on your face. When you went over on your arse…" She broke into another chuckle.

Alex had chuckled a little in response. "Well, it was a bit of surprise."

Monika suppressed her chortle. She pointed over toward the spot where he had landed. "At least, you didn't land in the horse shit." She started laughing more as Alex saw what she was talking about, just a couple of paces from where he'd fallen.

Alex only laughed a little. He was rather glad he hadn't gone that far, especially since he was wearing his leather armour.

Monika's laughter brought some tears to her eyes. It took her a few moments to settle down. She actually needed a good laugh. There hadn't been all that much to laugh about, just recently.

Alex didn't really mind that she was laughing at him. He was just glad to see her smiling. He hoped her mood would last the day. At least until they reached Skingrad.

Monika and Alex had soon resumed their journey. Even making fairly good time along the road, it was early evening by the time that they arrived in Skingrad. Of course, they didn't actually know where Forester's house was located, only that it was somewhere in the Chapel District of the city. They went directly to the Great Chapel Lodge and secured accommodation for the evening. The Guildhall could wait until the morning.

On Turdas morning, Monika and Alex made their way across town to the local office of the Fighter's Guild. The elderly porter had advised them that Forester had already reported to the Guildhall the previous day, but had not yet come in that morning. After taking possession of those silver weapons he had issued, he directed them to head straight upstairs to see Guildhead Canne.

Alex wasn't sure what to expect. Monika expected the worst. She wouldn't have been surprised to learn that she was being ordered directly back to Chorrol after receiving a stern reprimand for going off task.

As it passed, Canne was just as abrasive as usual, but not nearly as bad as expected. Monika had actually been a little surprised. It seemed that Forester wasn't wrong about claiming that he could smooth things with the Guildhead. Still, Monika wasn't planning to press her luck any further.

Canne had briefly commented upon the successful elimination of the vampires at Howling Cave. She seemed relatively satisfied. She also expressed passing satisfaction over that matter of the Daedric artefact, since it was no longer a Guild problem. Before providing contract payment for the vampire job, Canne had gone over a few points from Forester's lengthy report for further clarification. Surprisingly, Monika and Alex were not going to be docked for the day passed searching for Fadren, only for the time after that.

Since there were no other pressing contracts, they were advised that they could pass the day with training or with any other matter that suited them. Canne did advise them to be ready to go out the next morning. If Elynwen had still not returned with Temel-Za and Artellian by that time, then they'd be going out with Forester to look for them.

After a short time, Alex and Monika had met up with Forester. He had been out the back of the Guildhall testing Ras'Dar's skill with archery. It seemed that the Khajiit had been not been exaggerating that aspect of his abilities. His competency as an archer appeared to match his tracking skills. Forester saw no point in Ras'Dar wasting any further time with the bow. He said as much, planning instead to resume his training with blades and shields.

All four made their way down to the basement training area. Ras'Dar seemed rather enthusiastic. Although it had not been discussed, Alex knew what to expect. Monika would be pressing him to work at his neglected training with the mace and axe. Those activities kept them all occupied for the greater portion of the day. From time to time, the old porter had come downstairs to cast a stern gaze over the proceedings. Otherwise, they were left to their own devices, effectively at liberty until the next morning.

* * *

Fredas morning brought purpose, but no immediate surprise. Upon reporting to the Guildhall, Canne had sent Forester, Monika and Alex out to look for Elynwen. They didn't have that much to go on, only those locations in the south of The West Weald that Elynwen had previously mentioned before heading out.

Ras'Dar would not be going out with them. He had another day of training to look forward to. Only he would be taking instruction from Fadus Calidius. Ras'Dar couldn't tell whether the old porter didn't like him or whether he was like that with everyone. Either way, he did his best to ignore that and keep to the task at hand.

Forester, Monika and Alex left Skingrad behind and took to The Gold Road. They planned cut across the wilderness just past the halfway mark to head toward the locations that Canne's Bosmer second had previously indicated.

As it turned out, the whole exercise of setting off to look for Elynwen's party had been completely redundant. They had only travelled about three leagues out from Skingrad before meeting with Elynwen's group along the road.

The Bosmer looked like she had been lightly singed by a flame attack of some sort, but otherwise appeared okay. Artellian was walking with a limp and the Argonian was sporting a makeshift bandage on his tail. It was reasonable to assume that none of the outlaws had fared so well from any conflict.

Forester made the proper introductions for those that didn't know one another. Of course, the other three knew Monika by name only. None of them knew Alex. It was only Elynwen that appeared openly reserved over Monika's presence. She knew all about Canne's opinion of the Northwind woman. Nevertheless, she generally trusted Forester's judgement and she made some effort to put her subdued animosity aside.

In response to the query, Elynwen informed them that the outlaw gang had already been dealt with. She was confident that none of them had escaped.

According to Elynwen, they'd found the main group based in the ruins of a fort near the upper reach of White Rose River. Actually, they had firstly found the three rough encampments that the bandits had been using in periodic rotation. One was located not far from the eastern end of The Gold Road. The second was further south near The Red Ring Road. The third camp was near The Green Road, close to the border with County Bravil. That one was currently attended. The rest of the outlaws had been back at the main base. They'd put up quite a good fight, but proper victory went to the Guild.

The six Guild Fighters soon made their way back toward Skingrad. They expected that Canne would be glad see everyone returning in relatively good shape and with the word of another successfully completed contract.

* * *

For Forester, it seemed that most things would be returning to business as usual. At least for the foreseeable future, such as it was. Everyone was back there in Skingrad except for Taimar. She had still not returned from Hammerfell. With any luck, she would be back soon enough. Ras'Dar was staying at the Guildhall instead of Forester's house. Of course, that suited Forester perfectly.

If the coming winter was anything like the past two, he expected that it might be fairly quiet for a while. That would give him plenty of time to train up Ras'Dar. If the Khajiit's enthusiasm translated to proper skill, there was a good chance that he might make first rank by the time that things became busier. If nothing else, the task of training Ras'Dar would serve to help keep the Vigilants of Stendarr from his thoughts. Forester would do his best to fight the urge to find any reason to visit Kvatch. A nice quiet winter at home held a certain appeal and it seemed that circumstances were likely to support that prospect quite nicely.

With Skingrad's Guildhall back to relative strength, Monika and Alex would soon be returning to Chorrol. In fact, Monika had reasonably expected that Canne would be dismissing them sooner, rather than later.

As Monika had told Alex, she actually quite liked Skingrad. There were many things to like. The city itself was a pleasant place to live. She was quite fond of the quality of the wines and brandies that resulted from the rivalry between the two main vineyards. It seemed that there was a broader variety at Skingrad than was generally exported further afield. Alex had noticed that Monika also favoured that bakery in the Chapel District, especially the spicy sweetrolls that they made there. There was only one thing in Skingrad that she didn't like, or rather one person, and the feeling was quite mutual.

Regardless of any of recent events, Monika was looking forward to returning to Chorrol. Skingrad was a nice enough place to visit, but Chorrol had become more or less like home to her.

Monika had mentioned that she planned to visit the Wawnet Inn in about a month or so. She wanted to check in on Belwen and make sure that everything had worked out well.

She also remembered something that was coming up in just a few weeks. She told Alex about the Warrior's Festival on the twentieth. That was yet another festival that they didn't celebrate in Falkreath. Provided that nothing urgent came up, the head office of the Fighter's Guild was usually involved in some fashion. The Countess usually sponsored mock tournaments and public demonstrations. She expected the Fighter's Guild to preside over that part of the festival. It was meant to keep outbreaks of trouble on the streets to a bare minimum, but it probably only served to achieve the opposite. Nevertheless, the festival in Chorrol was considered to be one of the best.

Alex had thought that he quite liked Skingrad too, but he was also ready to head back. He was just a little surprised that he was already beginning to think of Chorrol as home after only a few months. He wanted to keep busy, but he was also looking forward to a slight lull in activity.

Alex had quietly pondered what else the future might bring. He was actually thinking more about the situation with Monika. He didn't speak of it, since she always avoided the topic and quickly shifted discussion elsewhere. For the most part, he would just have to be content to wait and see.

Still, he idly wondered if the day would eventually arrive when they might settle down at Weye. He could set up a farm on that land near the village and Monika might take to running the Wawnet Inn. He somehow imagined that such a thing might not be so likely for some time yet, if at all. Still, only the passage of time would tell.

* * *

After the passing of three nights and two days in Cheydinhal, Fadren Verelas had left that city behind to make his way northward. He had set off during the early hours of Fredas between midnight and dawn. Passing through the eastern gates, he headed in the general direction of the stabling facilities. Once out of sight of the city guard by the gate, he quietly slipped away under the waning moonlight. He skirted around the northern walls of the city before eventually finding the northbound road.

That first night in Cheydinhal, Fadren had found that tavern located not far from the city gates. He didn't go to the more opulent place that Forester preferred. He chose the more ordinary looking place across the street. That establishment was run by Dunmer and most of the patrons were also Dunmer.

Of course by that time, Fadren had only enough coin left for the most unappealing accommodation. That did not bother him at all. He'd certainly seen much worse. He had a place to rest. That was all that mattered.

Fadren passed most of the following day upon the streets of Cheydinhal. He did observe far more of his own people than he'd seen in other cities. Each of the other races were also well represented, but Dunmer almost seemed to outnumber any other particular race.

He had noted the greenery of the open spaces of the city. He found that to be pleasantly different from other places that he'd known. Cheydinhal did seem to hold quite a bit open space within its walls and much of it remained green. He found that to be rather appealing.

He'd actually found himself standing idly by the lazy river running through the middle of the city for a while. He watched a small group of children tossing breadcrumbs at the ducks on the water. It wasn't perfectly clear whether they were feeding the birds or trying to hit them. It was probably a bit of both.

Fadren had eventually returned to that inn by the evening. He found himself thinking that Cheydinhal might be a good place to live, especially so for a Dunmer. However, he could not stay there for long, perhaps no more than another day or two. He still had his mission ahead of him. Still, he imagined that city might be a nice place to return to in later years.

During his second evening in Cheydinhal, Fadren had spoken with a shady drunk in the tavern. It was more the case that the drunk had spoken with him. That Dunmer had reminded him a little of Daras Garil back in Solitude. Just like Daras, he suspected that the drunk was a thief. He also suspected that he might not have even been quite as drunk as he seemed. Of course, Fadren had kept his satchel on his person. It contained the only thing of any value that he possessed. With Azura's Star inside, he made a point of discreetly keeping his hand upon the satchel at all times. Even more so, in the presence of that drunken Dunmer.

Most of what the drunk had to say was of little interest. At some point, that circumstance had shifted. In a subdued and slurred fashion, the drunk had mentioned that he'd heard about a shrine to Azura located near the Jerall Mountains. Fadren became immediately suspicious. The drunk had gone on to say that it was rumoured to be off the northern road in the mountains. He had vaguely described the location, making it sound like it was second-hand information. He mentioned that nobody ever goes there, but he seemed certain that it was up there somewhere.

In a moment of apparent lucidity, the drunk paused to look about the tavern. In a quiet voice, he mentioned that he probably shouldn't be mentioning Azura around there. He warned Fadren about those Vigilants of Stendarr that the Count had allowed to operate in County Cheydinhal. He advised that even casual followers of Azura might be targets for their fanatical intolerance. He quickly returned to his ale, offering a moment of pleasant silence.

Fadren had taken careful note of what the drunk had mentioned. He certainly held no desire to draw the attention of those Stendarr cultists. He intended to carefully avoid anything that might serve to undermine his chosen duty to Azura.

It didn't seem that the drunk was about to leave him be any time soon. Once opportunity presented itself, Fadren had quietly slipped away to retire to his small room for the evening. He did give some further thought to what that drunk had been saying. The path that he was planning to travel would take him right past that shrine that he'd been talking about. If there was any credibility to the rumour, then it probably warranted some examination. He had also considered the warnings about those Vigilants of Stendarr. That was certainly something to keep in mind.

Fadren had passed the next day in Cheydinhal again. He remained wary of crossing paths with any of those Vigilants of Stendarr. From passing conversation, he had learned that they had a place just outside the city walls. He also learned that most of them were away at the moment, supposedly out on some pilgrimage in the wilderness. That had put his mind at ease somewhat. At least he was less likely to encounter them around Cheydinhal. He hoped that their pilgrimage did not take them anywhere near to where he was headed.

By the time that Turdas evening had come around, Fadren found himself back at that tavern once gain. It was quite early as he retired to that small and roughshod room that he had rented. The noisy tavern had made it rather difficult to rest, but he didn't require all that much sleep. By then, he had already decided that he would be leaving Cheydinhal in the very early hours of the morning. He rested as best he could until that time arrived.

Fadren was quite a distance from Cheydinhal by the time that the sun rose on Fredas morning. He continued northward as the day progressed. For the most part, he was able to follow the northbound road. Aside from the birds, he had not observed much wildlife about that morning. Certainly nothing that might cause any concern.

That circumstance changed a little later in the morning. Not all that far from the road, he had observed a small pack of wolves attacking some sort of hairy creature with the head of a horned bull. He expected that it was one of those Cyrodiilic minotaurs that he'd heard of. It seemed that the wolves were most likely to come off worse. The great beast had already dispatched one of them as he watched. None of the creatures had spotted Fadren. He planned to keep it that way, discreetly avoiding their vicinity altogether with cautious haste.

Fadren felt fairly confident of where he was headed. At least as far as finding the road to Skyrim was concerned. He was somewhat less confident over finding that Shrine; if it even existed.

He had looked closely at the most certain path during his earlier examination of his map. He knew that he needed to follow the northbound road beyond a place known as the Rugdumph Estate. High in the foothills of the Jerall Mountains, he expected to find some branches in the northern road. A side trail led to an old monastery. The two main branches of the road split near there and joined up again further west, before leading to the road up to Pale Pass. Of those two branches in the road, the more well worn path followed the ridges of the lower mountains. The map seemed to indicate bridges along that trail. The more direct trail was located just slightly north of that one. He suspected that the northern branch might have been more difficult to traverse by horse or wagon. Since he was travelling on foot, that was unlikely to be of great concern.

According to that drunk in the tavern, the old shrine to Azura was rumoured to be somewhere close to that first intersection of those branches. He was told that there should be a trail leading from the main road, but it might be hard to spot.

It was after noon by the time that Fadren had finally reached the place he was looking for. He had briefly investigated each of the branches of the road, looking for signs of what had been described to him. After a few missteps, he eventually found the trail that led up to what he sought. The shape of the terrain made it almost impossible to see until he was right on top of it.

Fadren approached the shrine. It was much smaller than the one in Skyrim. Once he was close enough, he could see that the shrine had been desecrated. It was perfectly obvious who was responsible. The misdeed had been clearly signed.

Near the base of the shrine, he found the remains of burned corpses. At least it didn't seem so recent. He guessed that it must have happened a few weeks before.

Fadren had tried to offer a prayer to Azura. Given the state of the shrine, he didn't know whether to expect that she would hear him. Still, he was holding her totem. He thought that perhaps she could advise of how he might cleanse the shrine. He heard no answer to his calls.

Fadren was just slightly disappointed. Nonetheless, it changed nothing. His duty remained the same. He would continue onward. Back toward Skyrim. Back toward the northern shrine in Skyrim where he had firstly accepted the responsibility of serving the will of Azura.

Returning to the road, Fadren found the turn off to the northern trail and continued on his way. Just as he had suspected, that northern branch had proved quite difficult. It seemed more suited to mountain goats than men or mer. In places, it was difficult to even see the trail, such as it was. At the least, the weather had not served to make his journey any more difficult. It remained fine and fairly clear. That would probably mean a much cooler evening, but that would not serve to deter him.

Much later in the day, Fadren had finally reached the place where the two branches had again joined up. It was a while longer before he caught sight of his most immediate goal. In the distance, he could see what looked like the rising slope up toward Pale Pass. It was still hard to be sure, but he remained reasonably confident.

It was much nearer to the northbound road that Fadren became alarmed. He spotted a small encampment just off the road near some trees. There was just one person there. He looked like an Orsimer, by the size of him. It was hard to tell. He was wearing full armour including a helmet. It didn't look like any sort of uniform. Another one had soon joined the first from just out of sight. He was a brown haired human with a beard. He looked like a Nord.

It wasn't immediately obvious whether they were adventurers or outlaws. Either way, Fadren wasn't particularly interested. In his judgement, it would be better to avoid them altogether. He tried to keep to the trees along the slope and remain out of view.

As he drew nearer to their position, it became evident there was little chance of passing by without being seen. He considered remaining behind those sparse trees and waiting for nightfall. Those trees only provided some limited cover, but it seemed like the best option.

However, that option quickly became useless.

He heard a raised voice. It was the bearded Nord. "Hey. Looks like a customer."

Both the Nord and the Orsimer started toward his position. Both had drawn their blades. It seemed perfectly obvious what they had in mind.

Fadren prepared himself, quickly formulating a plan of action. Both opponents were armoured. The Nord wore some sort of hide armour. The Orsimer's outfit appeared more substantial. Since they were both wielding blades, they would need to come up close. He had already begun quietly whispering a spell.

The Orsimer spoke as they came closer. "Well lookee here. Looks like this Dark Elf has lost his way. I reckon we gotta show him."

Fadren broke cover. His attacks occurred almost simultaneously. With one hand, he had unleashed a deadly stream of ice spikes. He threw his dagger with the other. The Nord was impaled by at least two spikes of ice. One of those wounds had been fatal. Fadren's dagger had gone exactly where he had directed it. He had aimed for the only openly vulnerable part of the Orc's armour. The blade had stuck in the Orsimer's eye socket, popping the eyeball out from the impact. That was most fortunate for Fadren. It would have taken a lengthy moment before he could have summoned any spell sufficient to the task of dealing with the Orc.

Fadren moved to retrieve his dagger. He was considering the value of taking possession of one their blades as an arrow sailed past his head. It seemed that those two had not been alone. Fadren turned to see another Nord running toward him with his bow drawn and ready for another shot. A second arrow had also missed the intended target, just barely.

Fadren had fallen to a crouch and hurled his dagger at the archer. The blade had flown true and landed quite effectively. The archer collapsed to his knees with the dagger protruding from his throat. Unfortunately, even though Fadren had acted quickly, he had not acted quite fast enough. The archer had managed to unleash one last arrow. The shaft had found Fadren, burying itself deeply within his chest.

Fadren collapsed and tumbled to the ground. He rolled a short distance, landing up against a tree. His satchel had come free and Azura's Star had fallen out upon the ground, landing just beyond his reach.

Even as Fadren started trying to whisper a healing spell, he knew that it was far too late for that. He could sense his life slipping away. He was filled with despair. He tried to speak, but the words failed to emerge from his mouth, only one thought filled his mind. "I have failed."

The comforting voice of Azura had responded, filling his mind once again. "You have not failed at all. Know that you have served well. Know that others will take up your burden at the proper time. Be at peace, Fadren Verelas."

Azura's words were Fadren's final thoughts.

~O~


	28. Chapter 28

Evening Star

Greg J Miller

~O~

Chapter 28

Fredas the 1st of Evening Star 4E48

Rognir wasn't actually from Bruma, at least not originally. Still, he had lived all his life in Cyrodiil. Most of that, within the borders of County Bruma. The big Nord had been born in the township of Bleaker's Way, several leagues to the south of the northern city. His extended family had lived there since long before he came along.

Rognir's parents ran a small farm at the edge of that small township. Just like his brother, he stood taller than their father. Also like his brother, he had his mother's dark hair and his father's pale gray eyes. They were two years apart in age, but they looked like twins. The brothers looked alike, but that was where the comparison ended. Unlike his brother, Rognir had been fairly useless around the farm. His father had been fully aware of that particular circumstance. He had wanted Rognir to go join up with the city guard of Bruma. After the passing of those troubled years without an Emperor in Cyrodiil, it seemed a good idea to have at least one family member either in Titus Mede's Legion or else working directly for the local Count. With the way that the Legion had been setting up smaller outposts at regional localities at that time, there was even the chance that Rognir might eventually have the opportunity to gain a posting that directly protected Bleaker's Way.

Despite the hopes of Rognir's father, that hadn't exactly gone according to expectation. In the end, Rognir had found himself best suited to running with the hunters operating out of Bruma. Even then, he wasn't the greatest of the local hunters, but he still made a fair living from it. He'd been doing that for the past fifteen years or so.

As was always the case, the hunting was rather lean that time of year. Some of the northern deer still roamed the forests just south of Bruma, but most of the game shifted far further southward, down toward the regions nearer to Lake Rumare.

Of course, some hunters headed south for the winter months. That would often mean living out of camps for much of the time and it wasn't all that much warmer down there. Some of those northern hunters just passed more of their time around the city, mostly around the taverns. The tavern owners did quite well through the winter.

Rognir would sometimes go back home to Bleaker's Way during the winter. Still, he would rarely stay there that long. Both his mother and sister would seem glad to have him there, but there was always a measure of friction with his father and brother.

Rognir had something different in mind for the season that year. He had an ambitious plan to go after bears that winter. Normally, that was an activity for the warmer months. Even then, it was best to be part of a group, or least hunting in pairs, if taking on bears. They were best avoided altogether when hunting alone. Rognir's plan was to locate and kill hibernating bears. Certainly, there was gold to be made from quality bear pelts. Even the meat from the hindquarters held some value. However, he remained unable to convince anyone else of the merits of his venture. Poking about looking for bears in confined areas sounded like the height of foolishness to his fellow hunters.

Nonetheless, Rognir remained undeterred. He felt certain that he would succeed in proving everyone else wrong. He'd see who was laughing when he came through the winter with far more gold in his hands than any of his comrades.

It was the third day that Rognir had been out searching for signs of places where he might find a hibernating bear. He didn't actually expect it to be that difficult. Of course, he had started with places that were not so far from Bruma. So far, he hadn't been having that much luck. Some might have suggested that he was lucky that he hadn't found any bears yet, but that wasn't how he saw it.

Rognir had set off very early on Fredas morning, just as he had done the past two days. The skies were dark and gray that morning. The clouds rolling down off the Jerall Mountains looked rather threatening. The Nord hunter had taken note of the possibility of the weather turning against him, but he remained optimistic. After all, he wouldn't be going all that far from Bruma. Perhaps no more than three or fours leagues out.

That morning, Rognir had taken the road northward. He planned to make his way around to the northern slopes of Gnoll Mountain by way of Dragonclaw Rock, where the northern trail turned off from the road to Pale Pass.

Rognir had easily made it to his intended destination without much trouble. However by that time, it was already beginning to look like a bad idea. The weather had started to turn bad. It was not just a slight shift, but quite a significant one. In the space of no more than a quarter of an hour, the skies had turned from dropping a light sprinkling of tiny snowflakes to a full-blown snowstorm with blustering winds.

It might have been too late, but Rognir had finally turned back to find the road and head for Bruma. He could hardly see where he was going, making it difficult to pick his way back down the slopes. He'd almost found level ground by the time he caught the scent of death on the wind. There had to be something dead very nearby. It occurred to him that he might have come across the remains of something left behind by a bear. He might even be right on top of a bear's den. He couldn't actually see the source of the stench, or any sign of somewhere that a bear might be hibernating. He kicked something with his boot. An odd shaped object came loose from the snow. At first, he thought it was just a rock. Then, he realised that it was something else. The object was shaped like an eight-pointed star. Rognir pick it up to examine it more closely. The object felt oddly warm for something that had been lying in the snow. It seemed to be carved with strange markings. He didn't know exactly what it was, but he suspected that it might hold some sort of value. Perhaps even more so, if it held any magical properties. Either way, he couldn't stay there to think about. He needed to get clear of the storm.

Rognir kept hold of the star shaped object and moved off to find the road. He stumbled blindly through the snow. He almost lost his footing a few times. He would have fallen if he hadn't managed to catch hold of a nearby tree. He then tried to be more careful. He hoped he was headed in the right direction, but he really couldn't tell.

Somehow, Rognir had finally managed to find the road just near Dragonclaw Rock, where those two roads met. From there, he felt far more certain that he could find his way back to Bruma. He just needed to keep to the road and keep moving. He knew that if he stopped, he would be finished.

Unfortunately, the hunter never made it back to Bruma with his strange find. He didn't even realise that he'd wandered off the road. He couldn't see a thing in that fierce storm. It wasn't a bear that brought about Rognir's undoing. At least not directly, anyway. He hadn't heard it coming over the roar of the winds. He never even saw it through the driven snow. He had inadvertently stumbled into the path of a huge ogre. It was just as likely that the pale beast had not seen even Rognir until they almost collided. Nevertheless, the ogre made short work of the big Nord. With the scarcity of food at that time of year, the ogre had no intention of wasting such an opportunity. It dragged off the body in search of shelter from the storm. It never noticed the strange object that fell upon the snow covered ground. Even if it had, it would have been of no interest at all.

* * *

Throughout the winter months of that year and into the next one, Azura's Star remained unattended, lying upon the snow covered ground not far from the road.

With the turn of the seasons, the spring rains had arrived and the star had been washed downhill nearer to the road. Eventually, a travelling trader on his way northward to Skyrim had inadvertently found the object one morning. He had no idea of what it was, but he thought that it might be of some value. He planned to trade it for gold at the first opportunity.

His journey to Bruma had not been nearly as profitable as he had hoped. He expected that his wife would not be at all pleased with the meagre amount that he made on that trip. Once he got back to Riften, he would see if that object could be turned into gold before returning home. Every little bit would count.

* * *

Over the passage of time, Azura's Star had passed through various hands in that fashion. Most of those that took possession of the object had little idea of its worth. It was quite some time before it eventually reached the hands of a Dunmer mage at the College of Winterhold some years later.

Malcolm Forester had occasionally recalled the memory of that bearded Dunmer who fooled him and then disappeared with that Daedric artefact. Still, that memory became somewhat faded with time. Few others had thought of him at all. For the most part, the name of Fadren Verelas was but an entry in a Penitus Oculatus ledger. A person of interest. Someone that was never found.

Although he served her only briefly, but a passing moment in the eternity of her existence, Azura had remembered Fadren Verelas more clearly. He was but one of her mortal children. Nevertheless, he had been loyal to the very end.

~O~

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* * *

Afterword: If you made it this far, feel free to pass comment [whether privately or publicly]. Special thanks to those that provided assistance and advice with this story, including those other writers providing comment via review or PM. Also, friends that acted as sounding-boards during development and revisions. Special mention for The Imperial Library website for providing such a wealth of useful information. And of course, the folks at Bethesda for creating the detailed universe of The Elders Scrolls.


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